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JULI 

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GEO 

PROFESSOR OF HISTORY AND OP 




lEBikli, from ifje STIjirt ISebisetr Eonton EtiHon, 

BY 

W. J. ROLFE, 

UASIEB OF THE HIGH SCHOOL, CAUB&IDGE, UAS8. 



BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED BY EDWIN GINN. 

WOOLWORTH, AINSWORTH, & CO. 

CHICAGO: FRED B. GINN. 

1869. 









Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by 

CROSBY AND AINSWORTH, 

In the Clerk'a Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 






THIRD EDITIO>'. 



8TE«eOTYP£& AT THE 

tOSTON STEREOTYPE F U N « V, 

NO. 4 SPRING LANE. 



Fresswork by John Wilson and Son. 



PREFACE 

TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. 



A YEAR ago I let a class at school take Julius 
Ccesar as their first reading in Shakespeare, and 
made daily use of this book of Professor Craik's in 
teaching therri. They noted down all the more im- 
portant points as I gave thgm, and, without having 
seen the book, learned the better part of it pretty 
thoroughly. It took more time than I had ever 
before given to a single play, — considerably more, 
of course, than would have been necessary if the 
book had been in the hands of the scholars ; but 
the results satisfied me that it was time well spent. 
I never had a class that became so heartily interested 
in Shakespeare, or that went on so rapidly and so 
well in reading other plays. It was the success of 
this experiment with the book that led me to think 
of editing it. I wanted it for my own classes, and 
I venture to hope that it may be of service to other 
students of Shakespeare, whether in school or out 
of school. 

(V) 



vi Preface to the American Edition. 

In editing the book I have omitted some portions 
of it ; but I beheve I have sacrificed nothing which 
may not be readily found in other books, especially 
in the last revised edition of Webster's Dictionary, 
to which I have rarely referred the reader, but which 
he will do well to consult on all points of etymology 
discussed by Prof. Craik. Whatever may be its 
other merits or demerits, it is the first English Dic- 
tionary yet published that in ay be safely taken as 
an authority on the etymology of the language. 

The portions of the original work which I have 
retained, I have thought it best to give precisely as 
the author wrote them. Here and there I have 
abridged a paragraph, and in two or three instances 
I have changed a word or phrase ; but none of these 
variations from the rule I had laid down for myself 
are of any importance. Where I could not accept 
the author's explanation of a passage, I have gen- 
erally given his views as well as my own, since the 
reader might prefer the former to the latter. My 
own notes are in all cases enclosed in brackets. 
The cases in which the author (as on pages 49, 161, 
and 270) has put an explanatory word or remark in 
brackets, are very few and wholly unimportant. 

The text of the play also I have left as Prof. 
Craik gives it. In seven instances, however, I have 
corrected obvious misprints. In 66 I give " He is 
a noble Roman " instead of " He is noble Roman " 



Preface to the American Edition. vii 

(see note on 155) ; in 256, "further" for "farther" 
(see note on 45) ; in 309 " true-fixed " for " true 
fixt ; " In 401 " masters" for " master" (see note on 
the passage) ; in 412 " o'ershot" (First Folio, " o're- 
shot ") for " overshot ; " in 745 " ere " (as in First 
Folio) for " e'er ; " and in 775 " than " for " then." I 
have also changed the spelling of a few words (as 
" deckt," " pluckt," etc.) in which Prof. Craik fol- 
lows the Folio.* The punctuation, too, I have 
sometimes changed, but in no case where the in- 
terpretation of the passage depended upon it (see 
note on Even by the rtile^ etc., 7oS)' 

As far as possible, I have verified the references to 
other Plays and to other authors, and have corrected 
many little errors, the majority of which were either 
slips of the pen or misprints. Qiiite likely I have 
overlooked similar errors of my own ; if so, I shall 
esteem it a favor to be informed of them. 

In revising the notes I have made use of Dyce's 
edition of Shakespeare, Collier's Second edition,! 
Singer's, Staunton's, Hudson's, White's, and Clark 
and Wright's " Cambridge Edition ; " carrying out 

* I have retained the -our in all words like valour, favour., 
etc., except honor and its derivatives. I changed that word 
(perhaps not wiselj-, on the whole) because I found that the 
Folio had honor x'ii the majority of cases, and even in " hon- 
or for his valour " in 374. 

t Craik's references are to the First edition. In the 
Second Collier has adopted many of Craik's suggestions. 



viii Preface to the American Edition. 

as well as I could Prof. Craik's plan of giving the 
readings adopted by the different editors, and their 
comments on difficult or disputed passages. 

I have added largely to the references to Bible 
passages illustrating Shakespeare's English. I had 
done a good part of this work some months before 
I met with The Bible Word-Book^ by Eastwood 
and Wright (London, 1866) ; but in revising my 
notes for publication I made free use of that admi- 
rable little book, and drew from it considerable 
additional matter. 

To Prof. F. J. Child, of Harvard College, for the 
encouragement he has given me in my work, and 
for many valuable criticisms and suggestions, I am 
under especial obligations. 

W. J. R. 

Cambridge:, Feb. 15, 1867. 



THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 



In this attempt to illustrate the English of 
Shakespeare, I would be understood to have had 
a twofold purpose, in conformity with the title of 
the volume, which would naturally be taken to prom- 
ise something of exposition in regard both to the 
language or style of Shakespeare and to the English 
language generally. 

My first business I have considered to be the cor- 
rect exhibition and explanation of the noble work 
of our great dramatist with which the volume pro- 
fesses to be specially occupied. I will begin, there- 
fore, by stating what I have done, or endeavored to 
do, for the Play of Julius C^sar. 

I have given what I believe to be a more nearly 
authentic text than has yet appeared. Julius Ccssar 
is, probably, of all Shakespeare's Plays, the one of 
which the text has come down to us in the least 
unsatisfactory state. From whatever cause it has 
happened, the passages in this Play as to the true 
reading of which ^there can be much reasonable 
doubt are, comparatively, very few. Even when 
anything is wrong in the original edition, the man- 
ner in which it is to be set to rights is for the most 
part both pretty obvious and nearly certain. There 

(ix) 



X The Author's Preface. 

are, perhaps, scarcely so many as half a dozen lines 
of any importance which must be given up as hope- 
lessly incurable or even doubtful. It is, I should 
think, of all the Plays, by much the easiest to edit ; 
both the settlement of the text and its explanation 
are, I conceive, simpler than would be the case in 
any other ; and it is for that reason partly that I 
have selected it for the present attempt. 

The alterations which I have found it necessary 
to make upon the commonly received text do not 
amount to very many ; and the considerations by 
which I have been guided are in ever}' instance fully 
stated in the Commentary. The only conjectural 
innovations which I have ventured upon of my own 
are, the change of '• What night is this? " into " What 
anight is this!" in the speech numbered 117; the 
insertion of " not" after " Has he," in that numbered 
401 ; and the transposition of the two names Lu- 
cilius and Lucius in that numbered 520. The first 
and second of these three corrections are of little 
moment, though both, I think, clearly required ; the 
third I hold to be both of absolute certainty and 
necessity, and also of considerable impoitance, af- 
fecting as it does the whole course of the Fourth 
Act of the Play, restoring propriety and consistency 
to the conduct of the action and the parts sustained 
by the various personages, and vindicating a reading 
of the First Folio in a subsequent speech (570), 
which, curiously enough, had never been previously 
noticed by anybody, but has been silently ignored 
and departed from even by those of the modern 
editors who have professed to adhere the most scru- 
pulously to that original text. 



The Author's Preface. xi 

For the rest, the present text differs in nothing 
material from that which is found in all the modern 
editions, unless it be that I have restored from the 
First Folio one or two antiquated forms, — such as 
'em for them, and moe in several places for more^ — 
which have been usually suppressed, although 'em 
remains familiar enough in our colloquial speech, 
or at any rate is still perfectly intelligible and unam- 
biguous, and moe is sometimes the only form that 
will suit the exigencies of the verse. . . . 

As for the present Commentaiy on the Play of 
Jzilius Ccesar, it will be perceived that it does not 
at all aspire to what is commonly distinguished as 
the higher criticism. It does not seek to examine or 
to expound this Shakespeai'ian drama eestheticall}', 
but only philologically, or with respect to the lan- 
guage. The only kind of criticism which it pro- 
fesses is what is called verbal criticism. Its whole 
aim, in so far as it relates to the particular work to 
which it is attached, is, as far as may be done, first 
to ascertain or determine the text, secondly to ex- 
plain it ; to inquire, in other words, what Shake- 
speare really wrote, and how what he has written 
is to be read and construed. 

Wherever either the earliest text or that which is 
commonly received has been deviated from to the 
extent of a word or a syllable, the alteration has 
been distinctly indicated. In this way a complete 
representation is given, in so far at least as regards 
the language, both of the text of the editio princeps 
and of the textus receptus. I have not sought to 
register with the same exactness the various readings 
of the other texts, ancient and modern ; but I be- 



xii The Author's Preface. 

lieve, nevertheless, that all will be found to be noted 
that are of any interest either in the Second Folio 
or among the conjectures of the long array of edi- 
tors and commentators extending from Rowe to our 
own day. 

Then, with I'egard to the explanation of the text : 
I confess that here my fear is rather that I shall be 
thought to have done too much than too little. But 
I have been desirous to omit nothing that any reader 
might require for the full understanding of the Play, 
in so far as I was able to supply it. I have even 
retained the common school-boy explanations of the 
few points of Roman antiquities to which allusions 
occur, such as the arrangements of the Calendar, 
the usages of the Lupercalia, etc. The expression^ 
however, is what I have chiefly dwelt upon. The 
labors of scores of expositors, embodied in hun- 
dreds of volumes, attest the existence in the writings 
of Shakespeare of numerous words, phraseologies, 
and passages the import of which is, to say the 
least, not obvious to ordinary readers of the present 
day. This comes partly from certain characteristics 
of his style, which would probably have made him 
occasionally a difficult author in any circumstances ; 
but much more from the two facts, of the corrupted 
or at least doubtful state of the text in many places, 
and the changes that our national speech has under- 
gone since his age. The English of the sixteenth 
century is in various respects a different language 
from that of the nineteenth. The words and con- 
structions are not throughout the same, and when 
they are they have not always the same meaning. 
Much of Shakespeare's vocabulary has ceased to 



The Author's Preface. xiii 

fall from either our lips or our pens ; much of the 
meaning which he attached to so much of it as still 
survives has dropped out of our minds. What is most 
misleading of all, many words and forms have ac- 
quired senses for us which they had not for him. 
All such cases that the Play presents I have made 
it my object to notice. Wherever there seemed to 
be any risk of the true meaning being mistaken, 
I have, in as few words as possible stated what I 
conceived it to be. Where it was not clear to my- 
self, I have frankly confessed my inability to explain 
it satisfactorily. 

In so far as the Commentary relates to the par- 
ticular Play which it goes over, and professes to 
elucidate, it is intended to be as complete as I could 
make it, in the sense of not leaving any passage 
unremarked upon which seemed to be difficult or 
obscure. But, of course, it puts forward no preten- 
sions to a similar completeness, or thoroughness, in 
respect of any further purpose. It is far from em- 
bracing the whole subject of the English of Shake- 
speare^ or making any attempt to do so. It is merely 
an introduction to that subject. In the Prolegomena^ 
nevertheless, I have sought to lay a foundation for 
the full and systematic treatment of an important 
department of it, in the exposition which is given of 
some principles of our prosody, and some peculiari- 
ties of Shakespeare's versification, which his editors 
have not in general sufficiently attended to. Such 
investigations are, I conceive, full of promise of new 
light in regard to the history both of the Plays and 
of the mind of their author. 

Still less can the Commentary pretend to any 



xiv The Author's Preface. 

completeness in what it may contain in reference to 
the history and constitution of the language gener- 
ally, or of particular classes of words and construc- 
tions. Among the fragments, or specimens, how- 
ever, — for they can be nothing more, — which occur 
in it of this kind of speculation, are a few which 
will be found, perhaps, to carry out the examination 
of a principle, or the survey of a group of connected 
facts, farther than had before been done ; such as 
those in the notes on Merely (45), on Its (54), on 
Shrew and Shrewd (186), on Statue (246), on the 
prefix Be (389), etc. . . . 

G. L. C. 



CONTENTS. 



PAaa 
PROLEGOMENA. 

Shakespeare's Personal History i 

Shakespeare's Works 4 

The Sources for the Text of Shakespeare's 

Plays 10 

The Shakespearian Editors and Commenta- 
tors 23 

The Modern Shakespearian Texts 25 

The Mechanism of English Verse, and the 

Prosody of the Plays of Shakespeare. 28 

Shakespeare's Julius C^sar 44 

THE TRAGEDY OF JULIUS C^SAR 59 

PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY 131 

(XV) 



[The English language, which has produced and nour- 
ished with its milk the greatest of modern poets, the only 
one who can be compared to the classical poets of antiquity, 
(who does not see that I am speaking of Shakespeare?) 
may of good right be called a universal language. 

Grimm. 

English . . . has always needed, and still needs, more 
powerful securities and bulwarks against incessant revolu- 
tion than other languages of less heterogeneous compo- 
sition. The three great literary monuments, the English 
Bible, Shakespeare, and Milton, fixed the syntax of the 
sacred and the secular dialects in the forms which they had 
already taken, and perpetuated so much of the vocabulary 
as entered into their composition. 

Their great poets have been more powerful than any 
other secular influence in first making, and then keeping, 
the Englishman and the American what they are, what for 
hundreds of j'ears they have been, what, God willing, for 
thousands they shall be, the pioneer race in the march of 
man towards the highest summits of worthy human achieve- 
ment. Marsh. 

We must be free or die, who speak the tongue 
That Shakespeare spoke, the faith and morals hold 
That Milton held ! 

Words'wortk.'\ 

Cxvi) 



THE 



English of Shakespeare. 



ETC. 



PROLEGOMENA. 
I. SHAKESPEARE'S PERSONAL HISTORY. 

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE was born at 
Stratford-upon-Avon, in the county of War- 
wick, in April, 1564. His baptism is recorded in the 
parish register as having taken place on Wednesday 
the 26th, and the inscription on his tomb makes him 
to have been in his fifty-third year when he died, on 
the 23d of April, 1616; his birthday, therefore, can- 
not have been later than the 23d. It was more 
probably some days earlier. It is commonly as- 
sumed, nevertheless, to have been the 23d, which, 
besides being also the day of his death, is the day 
dedicated to St, George the Martyr, the patron saint 
of England. 

His father was John Shakespeare ; his mother, 
Mary Arderne, or Arden. The Ardens were among 
the oldest of the county gentry ; many of the 
Shakespeares also, who were numerous in Warwick- 
shire, were of good condition. The name in provin- 
cial speech was probably sounded Shackspeare or 
Shacksper ; but even in the poet's own day its more 

(1) 



2 Prolegomena. 

refined or literary pronunciation seems to have been 
the same that now prevails. It was certainly recog- 
nized as a combination of the two woi'ds Shake and 
Spear. His own spelling of it, however, in a few 
instances in which that, our only known fragment 
of his handwriting, has come down to us, is S/iak- 
spere. 

John Shakespeai-e appears to have followed the 
business of a glover, including, no doubt, the making 
of gloves as well as the selling of them. He seems 
to have fallen latterly into decayed circumstances ; 
but in his better days it is evident that he ranked 
with the first class of the burgesses of his town. He 
was for many years an alderman, and twice filled 
the office of High Bailiff", or chief magistrate. He 
was also, though perhaps never very wealthy, but 
rather always a struggling man, possessed of some 
houses in Stratford, as well as of a small freehold 
estate acquired by his marriage ; and his connection 
with the Arden family would itself bring him con- 
sideration. His marriage probably took place in 
1557. He lived till 1603, and his wife till 1608. Of 
eight children, four sons and four daughters, William 
was the third, but-the eldest son. 

Shakespeare's father, like the generality of persons 
of his station in life of that day, appears to have 
been unable to write his name ; all his signature in 
the books of the corporation is his cross, or mark ; 
but there can be no doubt that the son had a gram- 
mar-school education. He was in all probability 
sent to the free-school of his native town. After he 
left school it has been thought that he may have 
spent some time in an attorney's office. But in 1582, 
when he was only eighteen, he married ; his wife, 
Anne Hathaway, of Shottery, in the neighborhood 



Personal History. 3 

of Stratford, was about eight years older than him- 
self; children soon followed, — first a daughter, then 
twins, a son and daughter ; and this involvement 
may be conjectured to have been what drove him to 
London, in the necessity of finding some way of 
supporting his family which required no apprentice- 
ship. He became first an actor, then a writer for 
the stage. Already by the year 1589 he had worked 
his way up to be one of the projDrietors of the Black- 
friars Theatre.* But he seems always to have con- 
tinued to look upon Stratford as his home ; there he 
left his wife and children ; he is said to have made 
a point of revisiting his native town once a year ; 
and thither, after he had, by the unceasing activity 
of many years, secured a competency, he returned 
to spend the evening of his days in quiet. So that 
we may say he resorted to London, after all, only as 
the sailor goes to sea, always intending to come 
back. He appears to have finally retired to Strat- 
ford, about the year 1612, and settled there on a prop- 
erty which he had pinxhased some years previous : 
his wife still lived, and also his two daughters, of 
whom the elder, Susanna, was married to Dr. John 
Hall, a physician, in 1607 ; the younger, Judith, to Air. 
Thomas Qiiiney, in Februaiy, 1616. But he had lost 
his only son, who was named Hamnet, in 1596, 
when tJie boy was in his twelfth year. Shakespeare 
died at Stratford, as already mentioned, on the 23d 
of April, 161 6; and he lies interred in the parish 
church there. 

His wife survived till August, 1623. Both his 

5^ 

* [But the genuineness of the document upon which this 
statement is based has been disputed by the highest paleo- 
gi-apliic authority in England. See White's Shakespeare, 
vol. i. p. Ivii., foot-note; pp. Ixiii. folh] 



4" Prolegomena, 

daughters had families ; Susanna, a daughter, who 
was twice married ; Judith, three sons ; but no de- 
scendant of the great poet now exists. The last was 
probably Elizabeth, daughter of Dr. Hall, who be- 
came the wife first of Thomas Nash, Esq., secondly 
of Sir John Barnard, and died without issue by 
either husband in February, 1670. Nor is it known 
that there are any descendants even of his father 
remaining, although one of his brothers and also 
one of his sisters are ascertained to have been mar- 
ried, and to have had issue. 

II. SHAKESPEARE'S WORKS. 

The first work of Shakespeare's which was 
printed with his name was his poem entitled Venus 
and Adonis^ in stanzas consisting each of an alter- 
nately rhyming quatrain followed by a couplet. It 
appeared in 1593, with a Dedication to the Earl of 
Southampton, in which the author styles it the first 
heir of his invention. This was followed in 1594 by 
The Rape of Lucrece^ in stanzas of seven lines, 
one rhyming to the fourth being here inserted before 
the closing couplet ; it is also dedicated to Lord 
Southampton, to whom the author expresses the 
most unlimited obligation. " What I have done," 
he says, " is yours ; what I have to do is yours ; 
being part in all I have, devoted yours." The 
Venus and Adonis was thrice reprinted in Shake- 
speare's lifetime ; the Lucrece^ five or six times. 

His other works, besides his Plays, are The Pas- 
sionate Pilgrim^ a small collection of poems, first 
printed in 1599 ; and his Sonnets^ 154 in number, 
with the poem entitled A Lover's Cojnplaint (in 
the same stanza as the Lucrece), which appeared 



Works. 5 

together in 1609. But the Sonnets, or some of them 
at least, were well known long before this. " As 
the soul of Euphorbus was thought to live in P}- thag- 
oras," says a writer named Francis Meres in his 
Palladis Tainia^ published in 1598, " so the sweet 
witty soul of Ovid lives in mellifluous and honey- 
tongued Shakespeare : witness his Venus and Ado- 
nis^ his Lucrece^ his sugared Sonnets among his 
private friends." It was still a common practice for 
works to be circulated to a limited extent in manu- 
script while they were withheld from the press. 

The first edition of Shakespeare's collected Dra- 
matic Works appeared in 1633, or not till seven 
years after his death, in a folio volume. A second 
edition, with numerous verbal alterations, but no 
additional Plays, was brought out in the same form 
in 1632. In 1664 appeared a third edition, also in 
folio, containing seven additional Plays. And a 
fourth and last folio reprint followed in 16S5. 

The Plays that are now commonly received as 
Shakespeare's are all those that are contained in the 
First Folio, being thirty-six in number, together with 
I-'ericles, Prince of Tyi'e^ one of the seven added in 
the Third Folio. Besides the other six in that edi- 
tion, — entitled The Tragedy of Locritie^ The 
First Part of the Life of Sir yohn Oldcastle, The 
Chronicle History of Thomas Lord Cromwell^ 
The Lo7tdon Prodigal^ The Puritan^ and A York- 
shire Tragedy^ — there have been ascribed to Shake- 
speare in more recent times the old Plays of The 
Reign of King Edward the Thii'd?i\\d. The Trage- 
dy of Arden of Fever sham ; and by certain Ger- 
man critics those of The Co?nedy of George-a- Green 
(generally held to be the work of Robert Greene), 
The Comedy of Mucedorus^ The Birth of Merlin^ 



6 Prolegomena. 

and IVie Merry Devil of Edmonton. Some of 
these are among the humblest productions of the 
human intellect: that the notion of their being 
Shakespeare's should have been taken up by such 
men as Schlegel and Tieck is an illustrious instance 
of how far the blinding and extravagant spirit of 
system may go. Finally, the Play of The Two No- 
ble Khismen., commonly included among those of 
Beaumont and Fletcher, has been attributed in part 
to Shakespeare ; it is described on the title page of 
the first edition, published in 1634, as written by 
Fletcher and Shakespeare, and the opinion that 
Shakespeare had a share in it has been revived in 
our own day. 

Of the thirty-seven Plays generally held to be gen- 
uine, eighteen are known to have been separately 
printed, some of them oftener than once, in Shake- 
speare's lifetime : — Titus Aitdro7iicus^ JRo?neo and 
yztliet^ Love's Labour's Lost, Midsummer Nighfs 
Dream, Much Ado about Nothing, MeTcha7it of 
Venice, Lear, Troihis and Cressida, Pericles, 
Richard the Seco7id, First Part of Henry the 
Fourth, Second Part of Henry the Fourth, Rich 
ard the Third (all substantially as we now have 
them) ; Hamlet, in three editions, two of them 
greatly difl'ering the one from the other ; and, in 
forms more or less unlike our pi'esent copies, The 
Merry Wives of Windsor, Hen7y the Fifth, and the 
Second 2iX\CL Third Parts of Henry the Sixth, under 
the tides of " The First Part of the Contention be- 
twixt the Houses of York and Lancaster," and "The 
True Tragedy of Richard Duke of York" (often 
referred to as " The Second Part of the Conten- 
tion"). Nor is it improbable that there may have 
been early impressions of some others of the Plays, 



Works. 7 

although no copies are now known. The Tragedy 
of Othello was also printed separately in 1622. All 
these separately published Plays are in quarto, and 
are familiarly known as the old or early ^ztartos. 

The following eighteen Plays appeared for the 
first time, as far as is known, in the Folio of 1623 : — 
T/ie Tempest^ The Two Gentle77ien of Verona^ 
Measiire for Measure^ The Comedy of Errors^ As 
Toil Like li, The Taming- of the Shrew ^ All's 
Well that Ends Well, Twelfth Night, A Winter's 
Tale, King fohn, The First Part of Henry the 
Sixth, Hejiry the Eighth, Coriolaniis, Timon of 
Athens, fulius Ccesar, Macbeth, Antho7iy and 
Cleopatra, and Cymbeline. 

There is reason to believe that the first edition of 
Titles A?idronictts was printed in 1594, although 
the earliest of which any copy is now known is 
dated 1600. The earliest existing editions of Romeo 
and fiiliet, Richard the Second, and Richard the 
Third, bear the date of 1597. The dates of the 
other Qiiartos (except Othello) all range between 
159S and 1609. It appears, however, from Francis 
Meres's book, mentioned above, that by the year 
1598, when it was published, Shakespeare had al- 
ready produced at least the following Plays, several 
of which, as we have seen, are not known to have 
been printed till they were included, a quarter of a 
century afterwards, in the First Folio: — The Txvo 
Gentlemen of Verona, The Comedy of Errors, 
Love's Labour'' s Lost, Midsummer Night's Dream, 
The Merchant of Venice, Richard the Second, 
Richard the Third, Henry the Fourth, King 
John, Titus Andronicus, Romeo and jfuliet, and 
another called Love's Labour's Won, which has been 
commonly supposed to be that now entitled All's 



8 Prolegomena 

Well that Ends Well.* And Meres cannot be held 
to profess to do more than to instance some of the 
works by which Sliakespeare had by this time, in his 
opinion, proved himself the greatest English writer 
that had yet arisen, both in tragedy and in comedy. 
Six years before this, or in 1592, Robert Greene, 

* But the play of All's Well that Ends Well seems to have 
its present title built or wrought into it, and as it were in- 
corporated with it. It is Helena's habitual -word, and the 
thought that is never absent from her mind. "All's well 
that ends well," she exclaims, in the Fourth Scene of the 
Fourth Act, — 

Still the fine's the crown : 
Whate'er the course, the end is the renown. 

And again in the First Scene of the Fifth Act : — 

All's well that ends well yet. 

So also the King, in the concluding lines of the play : — 

All yet seems well; and, if it end so meet 
The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet; 

and then to the audience : — 

The king's a beggar, now the play is done ; 
All is well ended, if this suit be won. 
That you express content. 

There would be no nature or meaning in the dialogue cir- 
cling around the phrase in question, or continually return- 
ing upon it, in this way, unless it formed the name of the 
Play. On the other hand, there is not an expression 
throughout the piece that can be fairly considered as allu- 
sive to such a title as Love's Labour's Won. 

Another notion that has been taken up is that the Play 
now known as The Tempest is that designated Love's La- 
bour's Won by Meres. This is the theory of the Reverend 
Joseph Hunter, first brought forward in a " Disquisition on 
the Tempest," published in 1841, and reproduced in the Sec- 
ond Part of his "New Illustrations of the Life, Studies, and 
Writings of Shakespeare," 1844. But, notwithstanding all 
the learning and ingenuity by which it has been set forth 
and defended, it has probably not met with much accept- 
ance. One would as soon believe with Ulrici that The 
Tempest is the very latest of all Shakespeare's Plays, as with 
Mr. Hunter that it is one of his earliest, — " nearly the first 
in time," he calls it, "as the first in place [meaning as it 



Works. 9 

accounted by himself and others one of the chief 
Hghts of that early morning of our -drama, but 
destined to be soon completely outshone and extin- 
guished, had, perhaps with some presentiment of 
his coming fate, in a pamphlet which he entitled 
" Greene's Groatsworth of Wit," thus vented his 

stands in the original collective edition], of the dramas 
which are wholly his." 

May not the true Love's Labour'' s Won be what we now 
call The Taming of the Shretv P That play is founded upon 
an older one called The Taming of A Shrew ; it is therefore 
in the highest degree improbable that it was originally pro- 
duced under its present name. The designation by which 
it is now known, in all likelihood, was only given to it after 
its predecessor had been driven from the stage, and had 
come to be generally forgotten. Have we not that which it 
previously iDore indicated in one of the restorations of Mr. 
Collier's MS. annotator, who directs us, in the last line but 
one of the Second Act, instead of "in this case o{ wooing" 
to read " in this case o{ winning" thus giving us what may 
stand, in want of a better, for a rhyme to the "if I fail not 
of my cunning" of the line folloAving .'' The lines are pretty 
evidently intended to rhjme, however rudely. The Play is, 
besides, full of other repetitions of the same key-note. Thus, 
in the Second Scene of Act I., when Hortensio informs Gre- 
mio that he had promised Petrucio, if he would become 
suitor to Katharine, that they "would be contributors. And 
bear his charge of wooing, whatsoe'er," Gremio answers, 
"And so we will, provided that he win her." In the Fifth 
Scene of Act IV., when the resolute Veronese has brought 
the shi"ew to a complete submission, Hortensio's congratula- 
tion is, "Petrucio, go thy ways; the field is won." So in 
the concluding scene the lady's father exclaims, " Now fair 
befall thee, good Petrucio ! The wager thou hast won ; " to 
which the latter replies, "Naj', I will win my wager better 
yet." And his last words in passing from the stage, as if in 
pointed allusion to our supposed title of the piece, are, — 

'Twas I won the wager, though you \_Lucentio'] hit the white ; 
And, being a winner, God give you good night ! 

The title of Love's Labour's Won, it may be added, might 
also comprehend the underplot of Lucentio and Bianca, and 
even that of Hortensio and the Widow, though in the case 
of the latter it might rather be supposed to be the lady who 
should be deemed the winning party. 



lo Prolegomena. 

anger against the new luminary : " There is an 
upstart crow, beautified witli our feathers, that, with 
his tiger's heart wrapped in a player's hide, supposes 
he is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the 
best of you ; and, being an absolute Johannes Fac- 
tohi7n^ is, in his own conceit, the only Shake-scene 
in a covmtry." This would seem to imply, what is 
otherwise probable enough, that up to this time 
Shakespeare had chiefly made himself known as a 
dramatic writer by remodelling and improving the 
works of his predecessors. He may, however, have 
also even already produced some Plays wholly of his 
own composition. If Titus Andronicus and the 
Three Parts of Henry the Sixth are to be accounted 
his in any sense, they probably belong to this earliest 
stage of his career. 

Of the thirty-seven Plays there are seven the 
authenticity of which has been more or less ques- 
tioned. The Three Parts of King Henry the Sixth 
(especially the First) and Titus Andronicus^ if they 
are by ShakesjDeare, have very little of his character- 
istic manner ; Pericles has come down to us in so 
corrupted a state that the evidence of manner and 
style is somewhat unsatisfactory, though it is prob- 
ably his ; Tinion of Athens is generally admitted to 
be only partly his ; and much of King- Henry the 
Eighth^ which has only recently come to be sus- 
pected, is also evidently by another hand. 

III. THE SOURCES FOR THE TEXT OF SHAKE- 
SPEARE'S PLAYS. 

From what has been stated it appears that, of the 
entire number of thirty-seven Plays which are usu- 
ally regarded as Shakespeare's, there are only^^r- 



The Old Texts. ii 

teen (including Hamlet') of which, in what may be 
called their completed state or ultimate form, we 
possess impressions published in his lifetime ; to- 
gether with four others (reckoning the Second and 
Third Parts oi Henry the Sixth to be the same with 
the Two Parts of the Contention) of which in an im- 
mature and imperfect state we have such impres- 
sions. Of one other, Othello^ we have also an 
edition, printed indeed after the author's death, but 
apparently from another manuscrijot than that used 
for the First Folio. For the remainingr eiirhteen 
Plays our oldest authority is that edition. And the 
only other sources for which any authority has been 
claimed are, i. The Second, Third, and Fourth 
Folios ; 2. A manuscript of the First Part and some 
portions of the Second Part of Henry the Fourth^ 
which is believed to be nearly of Shakespeare's age, 
and of which an impression has been edited by Mr. 
Halliwell for the Shakespeare Society; 3. The 
manuscript emendations, extending over all the 
Plays, with the exception only of Pericles^ made in 
a handwriting apparently of about the middle of the 
seventeenth century, in a copy of the Second Folio 
belonging to Mr. Collier. 

None of these copies can claim to be regarded as 
of absolute authority. Even the least carelessly 
printed of the Qiiartos which appeared in Shake- 
speare's lifetime are one and all deformed by "too 
many evident and universally admitted errors to 
make it possible for us to believe that the proofs 
underwent either his own revision or that of any 
attentive editor or reader ; it may be doubted if in 
any case the Play was even set up from the author's 
manuscript. In many, or in most, cases we may 
affirm with confidence that it certainly was not. 



12 Prolegomena. 

Some of these Quartos are evidently unauthorized 
publications, hurriedly brought out, and founded 
probably in the main on portions of the dialogue 
fraudulently furnished by the actors, with the lacunae 
filled up perhaps from notes taken by reporters in 
the theatre. 

The First Folio (1623) is declared on the title 
page to be printed " according to the true original 
copies ; " and it is probable that for most of the Flays 
either the author's autograph, or, at any rate, some 
copy belonging to the theatre, was made use of. The 
volume was put forth in the names of two of Shake- 
speare's friends and fellow-actors, yohn Heminge 
and Hejtrie Condell, who introduce what they style 
"these trifles," the "remains" of their deceased 
associate, by a Dedication to the Earls of Pembroke 
and Montgomery, — who, they observe, had been 
pleased to think the said trifles something, — and by 
a Preface, in which, after confessing that it would 
have been a thing to be wished " that the author 
himself had lived to have set forth and overseen his 
own writings," they desire that they, his surviving 
friends, may not be envied the office of their care 
and pains in collecting and publishing them, and so 
publishing them as that, whereas formerly, they con- 
tinue, addressing the Reader, " you were abused 
with divers stolen and surreptitious copies, maimed 
and* deformed by the frauds and stealths of injurious 
impostors that exposed them [that is, exposed them 
for sale, or published them], even those are now 
offered to your view cured and perfect of their limbs, 
and all the rest absolute in their numbers,* as he 

* This Latinism has no special reference, as has some- 
times been supposed, to the verse ; it means merely perfect 
in all their parts, or in all respects. So Sir Roger Twysden, 



The Old Texts. 13 

conceived them. Who, as he was a happy imitator 
of nature, was a most gentle expresser of it : his mind 
and hand went together ; and what he thought he 
uttered with that easiness, that v/e have scarce re- 
ceived from him a blot in his papers." 

Here we have certainly, along with an emphatic 
and undiscriminating condemnation of all the pre- 
ceding impressions, a distinct declaration by the 
publishers of the present volume that they had the 
use of the author's manuscripts. It is the only men- 
tion to be found anywhere of any of the Plays being 
in existence in his own handwriting. No doubt can 
reasonably be entertained that such of his papers as 
were in possession of the Blackfriars Theatre, to 
which Heminge and Condell, like himself, belonged, 
were placed at their disposal. And we may assume 
that from these the edition of 1633 was set up, so far 
as they went and could be made available. 

But it would be a great straining of such premises 
to conclude that the First Folio is to be accepted 
throughout as anything like an infallible authority in 
all cases for what Shakespeare actually wrote. That 
would, for one thing, be to suppose an accuracy and 
correctness of printing and editing of which there is 
no example in the published jDopular literature of 
that age, least of all in the drama, which was hardly 
looked upon as belonging to literature, and in regard 
to which the Press, when it was resorted to, was 
always felt to be at best but an imperfect and unnat- 
ural substitute for the proper mode of publication by 
means of the Stage. The writer, it would seem to 

in the Preface to his " Historise Anglicante Scriptores De- 
cern" (1652), speaking of the pains that had been taken to 
insure the accuracy of the text, says, " Nihil unquam apud 
nos, tanti saltern conaminis, . . . adeo omnibus numeris ab' 
solutum prodiisse memini." 



14 Prolegomena. 

have been thought, could not well claim as a work 
what called itself only a flay. Nor do the publish- 
ers in the present instance make profession of having 
bestowed any special care upon the editing of their 
volume ; what they say (or more probably what 
some regular author of the day, Ben Jonson, as it 
has been conjectured, or another, had been got to 
write in their names) is nothing more than the sort 
of recommendation with which it was customary 
for enlarged and improved editions to be introduced 
to the woi'ld, and the only j^ositive assertion which 
it can be held to involve is, that the new impression 
of the Plays had been set up, at least in part, from 
the author's own manuscript. They lay claim, and 
we may therefore be sure could lay claim, to nothing 
further. They even admit, as we have seen, that it 
would have been better if the author himself had 
superintended the publication. Of correction of the 
press there is not one word. That, we may be 
pretty certain, was left merely to the printer. It is 
not likely that the two players, who, with the excep- 
tion of this Dedication and Preface, to which their 
names are attached, are quite unknown in connec- 
tion with literature, were at all qualified for such a 
function, which is not one to be satisfactorily dis- 
charged even by persons accustomed to writing for 
the press without some practice. 

But this is not all. The materials which Heminge 
and Condell, or whoever may have taken charge of 
the printing of the First Folio, had at their com- 
mand, were very possibly insufficient to enable them 
to produce a perfect text, although both their care 
and their competency had been greater than they 
probably were. In the first place, there is nothing 
in what they say to entitle us to assume that they 



The Old Texts. 15 

had the author's own manuscript for more than some 
of the Plays. But, further, we do not know what 
may have been the state of such of his papers as 
were in their hands. We are told, indeed, that they 
were without a blot, and the fact is an interesting 
one in reference to Shakespeare's habits of compo- 
sition ; but it has no bearing upon the claims of the 
text of this First Folio to be accounted a correct 
representation of what he had written. He had 
been in his grave for seven years ; the latest of the 
original copies of the Plays were of that antiquity 
at the least ; most of them must have been much 
older. If, as is probable, they had been ever since 
they were written in use at the theatres, it can hardly 
have been that such of them as were not quite worn 
out should not have suffered more or less of injury, 
and have become illegible, or legible only with great 
difficult}^, in various passages. Nor may the hand- 
writing, even when not partially obliterated, have 
been very easy to decipher. The very rapidity with 
which the poet's " thick-coming fancies " had been 
committed to the paper may have made the record 
of them, free from blots as it was, still one not to be 
read running, or unlikely to trip a reader to whom it 
was not familiar. 

When we take up and examine the volume itself, 
we find it to present the very characteristics which 
these considerations would lead us to expect. As a 
typographical production it is better executed than 
the common run of the English popular printing of 
that date. It is rather superior, for instance, in point 
of appearance, and very decidedly in correctness, to 
the Second Folio, produced nine years later. Never- 
theless it is obviously, to the most cursory inspection, 
very far from what would now be called even a tol- 



i6 Prolegomena. 

erably well printed book. There is probably not a 
page in it which is not disfigured by many minute 
inaccuracies and in'egularities, such as never appear 
in modern printing. The punctuation is throughout 
rude and negHgent, even where it is not palpably 
blundering. The most elementary proprieties of 
the metrical arrangement are violated in innvuner- 
able passages. In some places the verse is printed 
as plain prose ; elsewhere, prose is ignorantly and 
ludicrously exhibited in the guise of verse. Indis- 
putable and undisputed errors are of frequent occur- 
rence, so gross that it is impossible they could have 
been passed over, at any rate in such numbeTs, if the 
proof-sheets had undei"gone any systematic revision 
by a qualified person, however rapid. They were 
probably read in the printing-office, with more or 
less attention, when there was time, and often, when 
there was any hurry or pressure, sent to press with 
little or no examination. Eveiything betokens that 
editor or editing of the volume, in any proper or 
distinctive sense, there could have been none. The 
only editor was manifestly the head workman in the 
printing-office. 

On closer inspection, we detect other indications. 
In one instance, at least, we have actually the names 
of the actors by whom the Play was j)erformed pre- 
fixed to their portions of the dialogue instead of those 
of the dramatis personce. Mr. Knight, in noticing 
this cii'cumstance, observes that it shows verv clearly 
the text of the Play in which it occurs (A/zic/z Ado 
About NotJiing) to have been taken from the play- 
house copy, or what is called the pi'ompter's book.* 
But the fact is, that the scene in question is given in 

* Library Shakspere, II. 366. 



The Old Texts. 17 

the same way in the previous Quarto edition of the 
Play, published in 1600; so that here the printers of 
the Folio had evidently no manuscript of any kind 
in their hands, any more than they had any one over 
them to prevent them from blindly following their 
printed copy into the most transparent absurdities. 
The Quarto, to the guidance of which they were 
left, had evidently been set up from the prompter's 
book, and the proof-sheets could not have been I'ead 
either by the author or by any other competent per- 
son. In the case of how many moi'e of the Plays 
the Folio in like manner may have been printed 
only from the previously published separate editions 
we cannot be sure. But other errors, with which 
the volume abounds, are evidence of something more 
than this. In addition to a large number of doubtful 
or disputed passages, there are many readings in it 
which are either absolutely unintelligible, and there- 
fore certainly corrupt, or, although not purely non- 
sensical, yet clearly wrong, and at the same time 
such as are hardly to be sufficiently accounted for as 
the natural mistakes of the compositor. Sometimes 
what is evidently the true word or expression has 
given place to another having possibly more or less 
resemblance to it in form, but none in signification ; 
in other cases, what is indispensable to the sense, or 
to the continuity and completeness of the dramatic 
narrative, is altogether omitted. Such errors and 
deficiencies can only be explained on the supposition 
that the compositor had been left to depend upon a 
manuscript which was imperfect, or which could 
not be read. It is remarkable that deformities of 
this kind are apt to be found accumulated at one 
place ; there are as it were nests or eruptions of 
them ; they run into constellations ; showing that the 
3 



1 8 Prolegomena. 

manuscript had there got torn or soiled, and that the 
printer had been obliged to supply what was wanting 
in the best way that he could, by his own invention 
or conjectural ingenuity.* 

Of the other Folio editions, the Second, dated 
1632, is the only one the new readings introduced in 
which have ever been regarded as of any authority. 
But nothing is known of the source from which 
they may have been derived. The prevailing opin- 
ion has been that they are nothing more than the con- 
yectural emendations of the unknown editor. Some 
of them, nevertheless, have been adopted in every 
subsequent i^eprint. 

The manuscript of Henry the Fotirth (belonging 
to Sir Edward Dering, Bart., of Surrenden in Kent) 
is curious and interesting, as being certainly either 
of Shakespeare's own age or close upon it, and as 
the only known manuscript copy of any of the Plays 
of nearly that antiquity. But it appears to have 
been, for the greater part, merely ti'anscribed from 
some printed text, with such omissions and modifi- 
cations as were deemed expedient in reducing the 
two Plays to one.f The First Pai't of Henry 

* I have discussed the question of the reliance to be placed 
on the First Folio at greater length in an article on The 
Text of Shakespeare, in the 40th No. of the North British 
Revie-M {for February, 1S54). ^^ i^ there sho^vn, from an 
examination of the First Act of Macbeth, that tlie number 
of readings in the First Folio (including arrangements of 
the verse and punctuation affecting the sense) which must 
be admitted to be either clearlj^ wrong, or in the highest de- 
gree suspicious, probably amounts to not less than twenty on 
an average per page, or about twenty thousand in the whole 
volume. Most of them have been given up and abandoned 
even hy those of the modern editors who profess the most 
absolute deference to the general authority of the text in 
which they are found. 

t I am informed by a friend, upon whose accuracy I can 
rely, that a collation of a considerable portion of the MS. 



The Old Texts. 



19 



the Fotcrth had been printed no fewer than five 
times, and the Second Part also once, in the hfe- 
time of the author. The Dering MS., however, 
exhibits a few peculiar readings. . . . 

It is only upon the supposition of the old text of the 
Plays having been printed from a partially obliterated 
or otherwise imperfectly legible manuscript, which, as 
we see, meets and accounts for other facts and peculiar 
apjDcarances, while it is also so probable in itself, 
that the remarkable collection of emendations in Mr. 
Collier's copy of the Second Folio can, apparently, 
be satisfactorily explained. The volume came into 
Mr. Collier's hands in 1849, and was some time after- 
wards discovered by him to contain a vast number of 
alterations of the printed text inserted by the pen, in 
a handwriting certainly of the seventeenth centuiy, 
and possibly of not much later date than the volume. 
They extend over all the thirty-six Plays, and are cal- 
culated to amount in all to at least twenty thousand. 
Here is, then, a most elaborate revision — an expen- 
diture of time and joainstaking which surely could 
only have been prompted and sustained by a strong 
feeling in the annotator of admiration for his author, 
and the most anxious and scrupulous regard for the 
integrity of his text. Such motives would be very 
inconsistent with the substitution generally for the 
old words of anything that might merely strike him 
as being possibly a preferable reading. The much 
more probable presumption is that he followed some 
guide. Such a labor is only to be naturally accounted 
for by regarding it as that of the possessor of a valued 
but very inaccurately printed book, who had obtained 

with the Quarto of 1613 leaves no doubt of that being the 
printed edition on which it was formed. 



zo Prolegomena. 

the means of collating it with and correcting it by a 
trustworthy manuscript. And, when we come to 
examine the new readings, we find everything in 
sufficient correspondence with this hypothesis ; some 
things almost, we may say, demonstrating it. Some 
of the alterations ai^e of a kind altogether transcend- 
ing the compass of conjectural emendation, unless it 
had taken the character of pure invention and fab- 
rication. Such in particular are the entire lines 
inserted in various passages of which we have not a 
trace in the printed text. The number, too, of the 
new readings which cannot but be allowed to be 
either indisputable, or, at the least, in the highest, 
degree ingenious and plausible, is of itself almost 
conclusive against our attributing them to nothing 
better than conjecture. On the other hand, some of 
his alterations are in all probability mistaken, some 
of his new readings apparently inadmissible,* and 

* Among such must be reckoned, undoubtedly, the altera- 
tion, in Lady Macbeth's passionate rejoinder (^Macbeth, 

What beast was't then. 
That made you break this enterprise to me ? — 

of beast into boast. This is to convert the forcible and 
characteristic not merely into tameness, but into no-mean- 
ing; for there is no possible sense of the word boast which 
will answer here. But in this case the corrector was prob- 
ably left to mere conjectiu-e in making his selection between 
the two words ; for in the handwriting of the earlier part of 
the seventeenth century the e and o are frequently absolutely 
undistinguishable. In the specimen of the annotator's own 
handwriting which Mr. Collier gives, the two e's of the 
word briefely are as like o's as e's, and what Mr. Collier 
reads bleeding might be equally well read blooding, if that 
were a word. Would Mr. Collier thus correct Tennyson's 
{Edtvin Morris'), — 

Were not his words delicious, I a beast 

To take them as I did.'' 

There cannot, I conceive, be a question that a celebrated 



The Old Texts. 21 

many passages which there can hardly be a doubt 
are corrupt ai^e passed over by him without correc- 
tion. All this becomes intelligible upon our hypoth- 
esis. Working possibly upon the same manuscripts 
(whether those of the author or not) from which the 
printed text had been set up, he would widi more 
deliberation, or by greater attention and skill, suc- 
ceed in deciphering correctly much of the difficult 
or faded writing which had baffled or been misread 
by the printer. In other places, again, he was able 
to make nothing of it, or it deceived him. In some 
cases he may have ventured upon a conjecture, and 
when he does that he may be as often wrong as 
right. The manuscripts of which he had the use — 
whether the author's original papers or only tran- 
scripts from them — probably belonged to the 
theatre ; and they might now be in a much worse 
condition in some parts than when they were in the 
hands of Heminge and Condell in 1623. The an- 
notator would seem to have been connected with the 
stage. The numerous and minute stage directions 

passage in another Play has been seriously injured by 
the same mistake which the annotator has made in the in- 
stance under consideration. Is it not self-evident that the 
speech of Polixenes in the Third Scene of the Fourth Act 
of the Wititer's Tale should run as follows ? — 

Nature is made better by no mean 
But nature makes that mean. So ever that art, 
Which you say adds to nature, is an art 
That nature makes. . . . 
The art itself is nature. 

The " o'er that art" of the modern editions is ^^ over that 
art" in the old copies. In other cases, again, the ever and 
the even have evidently been confounded ; as in The Merry 
Wives of Windsor, iv. 6, where Fenton describes Mrs. Page 
as " even strong against" the marriage of her daughter with 
Slender, " and fii-m for Doctor Caius." The error here, if it 
be one, however, has apparently been left uncorrected by 
Mr. Collier's MS. annotator. 



22 Prolegomena. 

which he has inserted look as if it might liave been 
for the use of some theatrical Company, and mainly 
with a view to the proper representation of the 
Plays, that his laborious task was undertaken.* 
[For a concise account of the controversy which 

* I do not remember having seen it noticed that the thea- 
tres claimed a property in the Plays of Shakespeai-e, and 
affected to be in possession of the authentic copies, down 
to a comparatively recent date. The following Adverfise- 
meiit stands prefixed to an edition of Pericles, in i2mo, 
published in 1734, and professing to be "printed for J. Ton- 
son, and the rest of the Proprietors : " — " Whereas R. Walk- 
er, and his accomplices, have printed and published several 
of Shakespeare's Plays, and, to screen their innumerable 
errors, advertise that they are printed as thej' are acted ; 
and industriously report that the said Plays are printed from 
copies made use of at the Theatres ; I therefore declare, in 
justice to the Proprietors, whose right is basely invaded, as 
well as in defence of myself, that no person ever had, directly 
or indirectly, from me any such copy or copies ; neither 
would I be accessary, on anj'^ account, to the imposing on 
the public such useless, pirated, and maimed editions, as are 
published by the said R. Walker. W. Chetwood, Prompter 
to His Majesty's Covipany of Comedians at the Theatre 
Royal in Drttry La7ic." On the subject of this Chetixjood 
see Malonc's Inquiry into the Shakespeare Papers, pp. 350 
— 352. In Tonson's similar editions of The History of Sir 
yohn Oldcastle and The Tragedy of Locrine (both declared 
on the title page to be "By Mr. William Shakespear "), he 
speaks in like manner of himself " and the other Proprietors 
of the Copies of Shakespear's Plays," and complains that 
" one Walker has proposed to pirate all Shakespear's Plays, 
but through ignorance of what Plays were Shakespear's, did 
in several Advertisements propose to print CEdipus King of 
Thebes as one of Shakespear's Plays, and has since printed 
Tate's King Lear instead of Shakespear's, and in that and 
Hamlet has omitted almost one half of the genuine editions 
printed by J. Tonson and the Proprietors." It would appear 
from Nichols's Illustrations, II. 199, that Theobald, in the 
Preface to the Second Edition of his Play of The Double 
Falsehood, which he pretended was written by Shakespeare, 
spoke of private property perhaps standing so far in his way 
as to prevent him from putting out a complete edition of 
Shakespeare's Works. The passage, which does not occur 
in the first edition (1728), is retained in the third (1767). 



Editors and Commentators. 23 

the Collier Folio has caused, and a very satisfactory 
review of the results, see White's Shakespeare, vol. 
i. pp. cclxxx-ccxcvi.] 

rV. THE SHAKESPEARIAN EDITORS AND 
COMMENTATORS. 

The four Folios were the only editions of the Plays 
of Shakespeare brought out in the seventeentli cen- 
tury ; and, except that the First, as we have seen, 
has a Dedication and Preface signed by Heminge 
and Condell, two actors belonging to the Blackfriars 
Theatre, nothing is known, and scarcely anything 
has been conjectured, as to what superintendence 
any of them may have had in passing through the 
press. The eighteenth century produced a long suc- 
cession of editors: — Rowe, 1709 ^i^d i7^4' Pope, 
1725 and 172S; Theobald, 1733 and 1740 ; Hanmer, 
1744; Warburton, 1747; Johnson, 1765; Steevens, 
1766; Capell, 1768; Reed, 1785; Malone, 1790; 
Rami, 1 786-1 794. The editions of Hanmer, John- 
son, Steevens, Malone, and Reed were also all 
reprinted once or oftener, for the most part with 
enlargements ; and all the notes of the preceding 
editions were at last incorporated in what is called 
Reed's Second Edition of Johnson and Steevens, 
which appeared, in twenty-one volumes 8vo, in 
1803. This was followed in 1821 by what is now 
the standard Vai'ioruni edition, also in twenty-one 
volumes, which had been mostly prepared by Ma- 
lone, and was completed and carried thi'ough the 
press by his friend Mr. James Boswell. We have 
since had the various editions of Mr. Knight and 
Mr. Collier, from both of whom, in addition to other 
original research and speculation, both bibliographi- 



24 Prolegomena. 

cal and critical, we have received the results of an 
examination of the old texts more careful and ex- 
tended than they had previously been subjected to. 
New critical editions by the late Mr. Singer, by Mr. 
Staunton, and by Mr. Dyce, have also appeared with- 
in the last few years ; and there are in course of 
publication the Cambridge edition by Mr. Clark and 
Mr. Wright [completed Sept., 1866], and the mag- 
nificent edition by Mr. Halliwell, which is to extend 
to twenty volumes folio. [Of American editions 
may be mentioned that by the Hon. Gulian C. Ver- 
planck, three vols., 1847 5 ^^^^ ^Y Rev. Henry N. 
Hudson, eleven vols., 1855 ; and that by Mr. Rich- 
ard Grant White, twelve vols., 1857-1865.] 

The list of commentatoi's, however, includes sev- 
eral other names besides those of the editors of the 
entire collection of Plays ; in particular, Upion, in 
"Critical Observations," 1746; Dr. Zackary Grey., 
in " Critical, Historical, and Explanatory Notes," 
1755 ; Heath., in "A Revisal of Shakespear's Text," 
1765 ; Kenrick., in a " Review of Johnson's Edition," 
1765, and " Defence of Review," 1766 ; Tyrwhitt., in 
" Observations and Conjectures," 1766 ; Dr. Richard 
Farmer., in " Essay on the Leai'ning of Shake- 
speare," 1767; Charles Jennefis., in annotated edi- 
tions of "King Lear," 1770, — "Othello," 1773, — 
"Hamlet," 1773, — "Macbeth," 1773, — and "Julius 
Cffisar," 1774 5 John Monck Mason., in " Comments 
on the Last Edition of Shakespeare's Plays," 1785, 
and " Further Observations," 1798; A. Beckett., in 
"A Concordance to Shakespeare, to which are added 
three hundred Notes and Illustrations," 1787 ; Ritson 
in [" Remarks Critical and Illustrative on the Text 
and Notes of the last* Edition of Shakespeare," 1 783], 

* Steevens's. 



The Modern Texts. 25 

"The Quip Modest" [1788], and "Cursory Criti- 
cisms," 1792 ; Whiter^ in "A Specimen of a Com- 
mentary," 1794; George Chalmers^ in "Apology for 
tlie Believers in the Shakespearian Papers," 1797, and 
" Supplemental Apology," 1799; Doiice^ in "Illus- 
trations of Shakespeare and of Ancient Manners," 
1807 ; Reverend Josefh Hunter^ in " Illustra- 
tions of the Life, Studies, and Writings of Shake- 
speare," 1844; ^^^ Reverend Alexajider Dyce, in 
" Remarks on Mr. Collier's and Mr. Knight's Edi- 
tions," 1844, and " A Few Notes on Shakespeare," 
1S53. To these names and titles may be added the 
Reverend Samuel AyscoiigJH s " Index to the Re- 
markable Passages and Words made use of by 
Shakespeare," 1790 ; "A Complete Verbal Index to 
the Plays of Shal<;espeare," in two vols., by Francis 
Tiviss^ Esq.^ 1S05 ; and Mrs. Coxvdeji Clarke's 
" Comjolete Concordance to Shakspere," 1847. Fi- 
nally, there may be mentioned Archdeacon Hares' s 
" Glossary of Words, etc., thought to require Illus- 
tration in Shakespeare and his Contemporaries," 
1822. [Of this valuable work a new edition with 
many additions both of words and examples, by J. 
O. Halliwell and Thos. Wright, appeared in 1859.] 

V. THE MODERN SHAKESPEARIAN TEXTS. 

No modern editor has reprinted the Plays of Shake- 
speare exactly as they stand in any of the old Folios 
or Qiiartos. Neither the spelling, nor the punctua- 
tion, nor the words of any ancient copy have been 
retained unaltered, even with the correction of obvi- 
ous errors of the Press. It has been universally 
admitted by the course that has been followed that 
a genuine text is not to be obtained without more or 



26 Prolegomena. 

less of conjectural emendation : the only difference 
has been as to the extent to which it should be car- 
ried. The most recent texts, however, beginning 
with that of Malone, and more especially those of 
Mr. Knight and of Mr. Collier (in his eight volume 
edition), have been formed upon the principle of 
adhering to the original copies as closely as possible ; 
and they have given us back man}' old readings which 
had been rejected by preceding editors. There has 
been some difference of opinion among editors of 
the modern school in regard to whether the prefer- 
ence should be given in certain cases to the First 
Folio or to some previous Qiiarto impression of the 
Play produced in the lifetime of the author ; and 
Steevens latterly, in opposition to Malone, who had 
originally been his coadjutor, set up the doctrine that 
the Second Folio was a safer guide than the First. 
This heresy, however, has probably now been aban- 
doned by everybody. 

But, besides the con-ection of what are believed to 
be errors of the Press in the old copies, the text of 
Shakesioeare has been subjected to certain modifica- 
tions in all the modern reprints : — 

1. The spelling has been reduced to the modern 
standard. The original spelling is certainly no part 
of the composition. There is no reason to believe 
that it is even Shakespeare's own spelling. In all 
probability it is merely that of the person who set up 
the types. Spenser may be suspected to have had 
some peculiar notions upon the subject of orthogra- 
phy ; but, apparently, it was not a matter about 
which Shakespeare troubled himself. In departing 
from the original editions here, therefore, we lose 
nothing that is really his. 

2. The actual form of the word in certain cases 



The Modern Texts. 27 

has been modernized. This deviation is not so 
clearly defensible upon principle, but the change is 
so slight, and the convenience and advantage so con- 
siderable, that it may fairly be held to be justifiable 
nevertheless on the ground of expediency. The case 
of most frequent occurrence is that of the word 
than^ w^hich with Shakespeare, as generally with his 
contemporaries and predecessors, is always the7i. 
''Greater then a king" would be intolerable to the 
modern ear. Then standing in this position is there- 
fore quietly converted by all the modern editors into 
our modern than. Another form which was un- 
questionably part of the regular phraseology and 
grammar of his day is what is sometimes described 
as the conjunction of a plural nominative with a 
singular verb, but is really only a peculiar mode of 
inflecting the vei'b, by which the plural is left undis- 
tinguished from the singular. Shakespeare and his 
contemporaries, although they more usually said, as 
we do, " words sometimes ^/Ve offence," held them- 
selves entitled to say also, if they chose, " words 
sometimes gives offence." But here again so much 
offence would be given by the antiquated phraseolo- 
gy to the modern ear, accustomed to such an ajopar- 
ent violation of concord only from the most illiterate 
lips, that the detrimental s has been always sup- 
pressed in the modern editions, except only in a few 
instances in which it happens to occur as an indis- 
pensable element of the rhyme — as when Macbeth^ 
in his soliloquy before going in to murder the sleep- 
ing King (ii. i), says,— 

Whiles I threat he lives : 
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives ; 

or, as when Romeo says to Friar Lawrence (ii. 3), 



28 Prolegomena. 

Both our remedies 
Within thy help and holy phj-sic lies. 

A few contractions also, such as upoiiH^i orCs head, 
etc., which have now become too vulgarized for 
composition of any elevation, are usually neglected 
in constructing the modern text, and without any 
appreciable injury to its integrity. 

3. In some few cases the editors have gone the 
length of changing even the word which Shake- 
speare may very possibly have written, or which 
may probably have stood in the manuscript put into 
the hands of the original printers, when it has been 
held to be palpably or incontrovertibly wrong. In 
yulius C(2sar.^ for instance (ii. i), they have upon 
this principle changed '' the Jirst of March " into 
"the ides of March" (149), and afterwards '•'• fifteen 
days" into '-'- fourteen days" (154). It is evident, 
however, that alterations of this kind ought to be 
very cautiously made. 

VI. THE MECHANISM OF ENGLISH VERSE, AND 
THE PROSODY OF THE PLAYS OF SHAKE- 
SPEARE. 

The mechanism of verse is a thing altogether dis- 
tinct from the music of verse. The one is matter 
of rule, the other of taste and feeling. No rules 
can be given for the production of music, or of the 
musical, any more than for the production of poetry, 
or the poetical. 

The law of the mechanical construction of verse 
is common to verse of every degree of musical qual- 
ity, — to the roughest or harshest (provided it be 
verse at all), as well as to the smoothest and sweet- 
est. Music is not an absolute necessity of verse. 
There are cases in which it is not even an excellence 



The Verse. 29 

or desirable ingredient. Verse is sometimes the 
more effective for being unmusical. The mechani- 
cal law or form is universally indispensable. It is 
that which constitutes the verse. It may be regarded 
as the substance ; musical character, as the accident 
or ornament. 

In every language the principle of the law of 
verse undoubtedly lies deep in the nature of the lan- 
guage. In all modern European languages, at least, 
it is dependent upon the system of accentuation es- 
tablished in the language, and would probably be 
found to be modified in each case according to the 
peculiarities of the accentual system. In so far as 
regards these languages, verse may be defined to 
consist in a certain arrangement of accented and 
unaccented syllables. 

The Plays of Shakespeare are all, with the excep- 
tion only of occasional couplets, in unrhymed or 
what is called Blank verse. This form of verse was 
first exemplified in English in a translation of the 
Fourth Book of the ^neid by the unfortunate Lord 
Surrey, who was executed in 1547 ; it was first em- 
ployed in dramatic writing by Thomas Sackville 
(aftei"wai"ds Lord Buckhurst and Earl of Dorset) in 
his Gorboduc (or Ferrcx a?zd Porrex)^ produced in 
1561 ; and, although not much used in poetical com- 
positions of any other kind, either translated or origi- 
nal, till Milton brought it into reputation by his 
Paradise Lost in the latter part of the following 
century, it had come to be the established or cus- 
tomary verse for both tragedy and comedy before 
Shakespeare began to write for the stage. Our only 
legitimate English Blank verse is that commonly 
called the Heroic, consisting normally in a succes- 
sion of five feet of two syllables each, with the 



30 Prolegomena. 

pressure of the voice, or accent, on the latter of the 
two, or, in other words, on the second, fourth, sixth, 
eighth, and tenth syllables of each line. After the 
tenth syllable, an unaccented syllable, or even two, 
may be added without any prosodical effect. The 
rhythm is completed with the tenth syllable, and 
what follows is only as it were a slight reverberation 
or echo. 

But this general statement is subject to certain im- 
portant modifications :' — 

1. In any of the feet an accent on the first syllable 
may be substituted for one on the second, providing 
it be not done in two adjoining feet. This transfer- 
ence of the accent is more unusual in certain of the 
feet than in others — most of all in the fifth, next to 
that in the second ; — but is not in any foot a viola- 
tion of the law of the verse, or what is pi'operly to 
be called a license. 

2. It is a universal law of English verse, that any 
syllable whatever, falling in the place of the accent 
either immediately before or immediately after a foot 
of which one of the syllables is truly accented, will 
be accounted to be accented for the purposes of the 
verse. The -my of enetny^ for instance, or the in- of 
intercept, is always' so accounted in heroic verse, in 
virtue of the true accent upon en- and upon -cept ; 
but in dactylic or anap^stic verse, these syllables, 
although pronounced precisely in the same manner, 
are always held to be unaccented, the law of those 
kinds of verse not requiring another accent within 
the distance at which the -my stands removed from 
the 671-, or the in- from the -cept. This, in so far as 
I'egards the heroic line, is equivalent to saying that 
every alternate foot may be without a really accented 
syllable in it at all. Or the line might be defined as 



The Verse. 31 

consisting, not of five feet of two syllables each, with 
one of them accented, but of two and a half feet, 
each of four syllables, with at least one of the four 
accented ; the half foot, which need not have an 
accent, occurring sometimes at the beginning of the 
line, sometimes in the middle, sometimes at the end. 
Practically, the effect is, that anywhere in the line 
we may have a sequence of three syllables (none of 
them being superfluous) without any accent ; and 
that there is no word in the language (such as Hor- 
ace was plagued with in Latin) quod versu dicere 
non est^ — none, whether proper name or whatever 
else, which the verse does not i"eadily admit. 

3. It is by no means necessary (though it is com- 
monly stated or assumed to be so) that the syllables 
alternating with the accented ones should be unac- 
cented. Any or all of them may be accented also. 

4. Further, in an}^ of the places which may be 
occupied by an unaccented syllable it is scarcely 
an irregularity to introduce two or even more such 
unaccented syllables. The effect may be compared 
to the prolongation or dispersion of a note in music 
by what is called a shake. Of coui'se, such a con- 
struction of verse is to be resorted to sparingly and 
only upon special grounds or occasions ; employed 
habitually, or very frequently, it crowds and cumbers 
the rhythm, and gives it a quivering and feeble char- 
acter. But it can nowhere be said to be illegiti- 
mate, — although, in ordinary circumstances, it may 
have a less agreeable effect in some places of the line 
than in others. 

These four modifications of its normal structure 
are what, along with the artistic distribution of the 
pauses and cadences, principally give its variety, 
freedom, and life to our Heroic verse. They are 



32 Prolegomena. 

what the intermixture of dactyls and spondees is to 
the Greek or Latin Hexameter. They are none of 
them of the nature of what is properly denominated 
a poetic license, which is not a modification but a 
violation of the rule, permissible only upon rare 
occasions, and altogether anarchical and destructive 
when too frequently committed. The first three of our 
four modifications are taken advantage of habitually 
and incessantly by every writer of verse in the lan- 
guage ; and the fourth, to a greater or less extent, at 
least by nearly all our blank verse poets. 

So much cannot be said for another form of verse 
(if it is to be so called) which has also been sup- 
jDOsed to be found in Shakespeare ; that, namely, in 
which a line, evidently perfect both at the beginning 
and the end, wants a syllable in the middle. Such, 
for instance, is the well-known line in Afeaszire for 
Measure^ ii. 2, as it stands in the First Folio, — 

Than the soft mji-tle. But man, proud man. 

Here, it will be observed, we have not a hemistich 
(by which we mean any portion of a verse per- 
fect so far as it extends, whether it be the com- 
inencing or concluding portion), but something 
which professes to be a complete verse. The pres- 
ent is not merely a trtt7icated line of nine syllables, 
crt one* where the defect consists in the want of either 
tlie first or the last syllable ; the defect here would 
not be cured by any addition to either the beginning 
or the end of the line ; the syllable that is wanting is 
in the middle. 

The existing text of the Plays presents us with a 
considerable number of verses of this description. 
In many of these, in all probability, the text is cor- 
rupt ; the wanting syllable, not being absolutely 
indispensable to the sense, has been dropped out 



The Verse. 33 

in the copying or setting up by some one (a com- 
mon case) not mucli alive to the demands of the 
prosody. The only other solution of the difficulty 
that has been offered is, that we have a substitute 
for the omitted syllable in a pause hy which the 
reading of the line is to be broken. This notion 
appears to have received the sanction of Coleridge. 
But I cannot think that he had fully considered the 
matter. It is ceilain that in no verse of Coleridge's 
own does any mere pause ever perform the function 
which would thus be assigned to it. Nor is any such 
principle recogtiized in any other English Verse, 
modern or ancient, of which we have a text that 
can be absolutely relied upon. It is needless to 
observe, that both in Shals;espeare and in all our 
other writers of verse, we have abundance of lines 
broken by pauses of all lengths without any such 
effect being thereby produced as is here assumed. 
If the pause be really equivalent to a syllable, how 
happens it that it is not so in every case? But that 
it should be so in any case is a. doctrine_ to which I 
should have the greatest 
myself. How is it possi 

to bring anything like rjo^l^irL put of jtEe^ above 
words, — 11''^ JlJP^ ^ 

Than the soft myrtl? 

If this be vei-se, there is n§'8i^^4U£Qfi<:©yO&fe^ 
designated. 

I should be inclined to say, that, wherever there 
seems to be no reason for suspecting the loss of a 
syllable, we ought in a case of this sort to regard the 
words as making not one line, but two hemistichs, 
or tinancated lines. Thus, the passage in Measure 
for Measure would stand — 
3 



34 Prolegomena. 

Merciful heaven ! 

Thou rather, \vith thy sharp and sulphurous bolt, 

Splitt'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak 

Than the soft myi'tle. 

But man, proud man, 

Dress'd in a little brief authority : etc. 

This is nothing more than what has been done with 
the words " Merciful heaven ! " which all the mod- 
ern editors print as a hemistich, but which both in 
the First Folio and in all the others are made to 
form a line with the words that immediately pre- 
cede ; thus : — 

Nothing but thunder : MercifuU heauen. 

What mainly gives its character to the English 
Heroic line is its being poised upon the tenth syl- 
lable. It is by this, as well as by the number of feet, 
that its rhythm or musical flow is distinguished, for 
instanie, from that of what is called the Alexan- 
drine, or line of twelve syllables, the characteristic 
of which is that the pressiu'e is upon the sixth and 
the twelfth. Without this twelve syllables will no 
more make an Alexandrine than they will a common 
Heroic line. There are in fact many Heroic lines 
consisting of twelve syllables, but still, nevertlieless, 
resting upon the tenth. 

It follows that generally in this kind of verse tlie 
tenth syllable will be strongly accented. That is the 
normal form of the line. Wlien there is rhyme, the 
consonance is always in the tenth syllable. As, how- 
ever, in dancing (which is a kind of visible verse, — 
the poetry of motion, as it has been called), or in 
architecture (which is another kind, and may be 
styled the visible poetry of repose), the pressure 
upon that which really sustains is sometimes sought 
to be concealed, or converted into the semblance of 



The Verse. 35 

its opposite, and the limb or the pillar made to 
appear to be rather drawn towards the ground than 
resting upon it, so in word-poetry too we have occa- 
sionally the exhibition of a similar feat. Instead of 
a strongly accented syllable, one taking only a very 
slight accent, or none at all, is made to fill the tenth 
place. One form, indeed, of tliis peculiarity of sti*uc- 
ture is extremely common, and is resorted to by all 
our poets as often for mere convenience as for any 
Irigher jjurpose, that, namel}', in which the weak 
tenth syllable is the termination of a word of which 
the syllable having the accent has already done duty 
in its proper place in the preceding foot. It is in 
this way that, both in our blank and in our rimmed 
verse, the large classes of words ending in -Ing^ 
-ness, -i7ie7it^ -y, etc., and accented on the antepenul- 
timate, are made available in concluding so many 
lines. The same thmg happens when we !iave at 
the end of the line a short or unaccented monosylla- 
ble which either coalesces like an enclitic with the 
preceding word, or at least belongs to the same 
clause of the expression ; as in Beaumont and 
Fletcher's 

By my dear father's soul, jou stir not, Sir! 

(^Humorous Lieutenant, it. 2) ; 
or, 

And yields all thanks to me for that dear care 
Which I was bound to have in training you. 

{King and No King, ii.^ 

But another case is more remarkable. 

This is when the weak or unaccented tenth syl- 
lable is neither the final syllable of a word the ac- 
-cented syllable of which has already done service in 
the preceding foot, nor in any way a part of the 
same clause of the expression to which that foot 



36 Prolegomena. 

belongs, but a separate monosyllabic word, fre- 
quently one, such as and^ but^ if^ or^ of., even the^ 
or a, or a;z, among the slightest and most rapidly 
uttered in the language, and belonging syntactically 
and in natural utterance to the succeeding line. We 
may be said to have the strongest or most illustrious 
exemplifications of this mode of versifying in the 

Labitur ripa, Jove non probante, u- 
xorius amnis, 
and other similar exhibitions of " linked sweetness " 
in Horace, Pindar, and the Greek dramatists in their 
choral passages (if we may accept the common ar- 
rangement), — to say nothing of sundry modern 
imitations in the same bold style, even in our own 
vernacular, which need not be quoted. Such a con- 
struction of verse, however, when it does not go the 
length of actually cutting a word in two, is in jDerfect 
accordance with the principles of our English pi-o- 
sodical system ; for, besides that the and, or, of, or 
if IS not really a slighter syllable than the termination 
-ty or -ly, for instance, which is so frequently found 
in the same position, these and other similar mono- 
syllables are constantly recognized, under the second 
of the above laws of modification, as virtually ac- 
cented for the pui'poses of the verse in other places 
of the line. Still when a syllable so slight meets us 
in the place where the normal, natural, and custom- 
ar)'^ rhythm demands the greatest pressure, the effect 
is always somewhat startling. This unexpectedness 
of effect, indeed, may be regarded as in many cases 
the end aimed at, and that which prompts or recom- 
mends the construction in question. And it does 
undoubtedly produce a certain vai'iety and liveliness. 
It is fittest, therefore, for the lighter kinds of poetry. 
It is only there that it can, without impropriety, be 



The Verse. 37 

made a characteristic of tlie verse. It partakes too 
much of the nature of a trick or a deception to be 
employed except sparingly in poetry of the manliest 
or most massive order. Yet there too it may be in- 
troduced now and then with the happiest effect, more 
especially in the drama, where variety and vivacity 
of style are so much more requisite than rhythmical 
fulness or roundness, and the form of dialogue, 
always demanding a natural ease and freedom, will 
justify even irregularities and audacities of expression 
which might be rejected by the more stately march 
of epic composition. It has something of the same 
bounding life which Ulysses describes Diomed as 
showing in "the manner of his gait:" — 

He rises on the toe : that spiint of his 
In aspiration lifts him from the earth. 

Two things are observable with regard to Shake- 
speare's employment of this peculiar construction 
of verse : — 

I. It will be found, upon an examination of his 
Plays, that there are some of them in which it occurs 
very rarely, or perhaps scarcely at all, and others in 
which it is abundant. It was certainly a habit of 
writing which grew upon him after he once gave in 
to it. Among the Plays in which there is little or 
none of it are some of those known to be amongst 
his earliest ; and some that were imdoubtedly the 
product of the latest period of his life are among 
those that have the most of it. It is probable that 
the different stages in the frequency with which it is 
indulged in correspond generally to the order of suc- 
cession in which the Plays were written. A certain 
progress of style may be traced, more or less dis- 
tinctly, in every writer ; and there is no point of 
style which more nxirks a poetic writer than the 



38 Prolegomena. 

character of his versification. It is this, for instance, 
which furnishes us with the most conclusive or at 
least the clearest evidence that the Play of King 
Henry the Eighth cannot have been written through- 
out by Shakespeare. It is a point of st3'le which 
admits of precise appreciation to a degree much 
beyond most others ; and there is no other single 
indication which can be compared with it as an 
element in determining the chronology of the Plays. 
It is therefore extremely difficult to believe that the 
three Roman plays, yiilijis Ccesar^ Antotiy and 
Cleopatra^ and Coriolanus^ can all belong to the 
same period (Malone assigns them severally to the 
years 1607, 1608, and 1610), seeing that the second 
and third are among the Plays in which verses hav- 
ing in the tenth place an unemphatic monosyllable 
of the kind in question are of most frequent occur- 
rence, while the only instances of anything of the 
sort in the first are, I believe, the following : — 

54. I had as lief not be as live to be 
In awe of such a thing as I myself. 

54. And Cassius is 

A wretched creature, and must bend his body. 

54. A man of such a feeble temper should 
So get the start of the majestic world. 

55. I do believe that these applauses are 

For some new honours that are heaped on Caesar. 

155. All the interim is 

Like a phantasma. 
306. Desiring thee that Publius Cimber rnay 

Have an immediate freedom of repeal. 

354. And am moreover suitor, that I may 
Produce his body to the market-place. 

357. And that Ave are contented Caesar shall 
Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies. 



The Verse. 39 

405. But yesterday the word of Csesar might 
Have stood against the world. 

493. Or here, or at 

The Capitol. 

Not only does so comparatively rare an indulgence 
in it show that the habit of this kind of versification 
was as yet not fully formed, but in one only of these 
ten instances have we it carried nearly so far as it 
repeatedly is in some other Plays : be^ and is, and 
should, and may, and shall, and mig'ht, and are, all 
verbs, though certainly not emphatic, will yet any 
of them allow the voice to rest upon it with a con- 
siderably stronger pressure than such lightest and 
slightest of " winged words " as and, or, but, if, that 
(the relative or conjunction), who, which, than, as, 
of, to, with, for, etc. The only decided or true 
and perfect instance of the peculiarity is the last in 
the list. 

2. In some of the Plays at least the prosody of 
many of the verses constructed upon the principle 
under consideration has been misconceived by every 
editor, including the most recent. Let us take, for 
example, the play of Coriolanus, in which, as has 
just been observed, such verses are very numerous. 
Here, in the first place, we have a good many in- 
stances in which the versification is correctly exhib- 
ited in the First Folio, and, of course, as might be 
expected, in all subsequent editions ; such as — 

Only in strokes, but with thy grim looks and 
The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds. — i. 4. 

I got them in my country's service, when 

Some certain of your brethren roared and ran. — ii. 3. 

The thvvartings of 3'our dispositions, if 

You had not showed them how you were disposed. — iii. 2. 

Come, my sweet wife, my dearest mother, and 

My friends of noble touch, when I am forth. — iv. 2. 



40 Prolegomena. 

Permitted by our dastard nobles, who 
Have all forsook me. — iv. 5. 

Mistake me not, to save my life ; for if 

I had feared death, of all the men i' the world. — iv. 5. 

Had we no quarrel else * to Rome, but that 

Thou art thence banished, we would muster all. — iv. 5. 

You have holp to ravish your own daughters, and 
To melt the city leads upon your pates. — iv. 6. 

Your temples burned in their cement; and 

Your franchises, whereon you stood, confined. — iv. 6. 

Upon the voice of occupation, and 
The breath of garlic-eaters. — iv. 6. 

I do not know what witchcraft's in him ; but 
Your soldiers use him as the grace 'fore meat. — iv. 7- 
Mine ears against your suits are stronger than 
Your gates against my force. — v. 3. 

As if Olympus to a molehill should 
In supplication nod. — v. 3. 

Hath an aspect of intercession, which, 
Great Nature cries, Deny not. — v. 3. 

Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark; for we'll 
Hear nought from Rome in private. — v. 3. 

That thou restrain'st from me the duty which 
To a mother's part belongs. — v. 3. 

And hale him up and down ; all swearing, if 

The Roman ladies bring not comfort home. — v. 4. 

* The reading of all the copies is "No other quarrel 
else ; " but it is evident that oiAej- is merely the author's first 
Word, which he must be supposed to have intended to strike 
out, if he did not actually do so, when he resolved to sub- 
stitute else. The prosody and the sense agree in admonish- 
ing us that both words cannot stand. So in Antony and 
Cleofatra, iv. 10, in the line " To the young Roman boy she 
hath sold me, and I fall ; ''young is evidently only the word 
first intended to be used, and never could be meant to be 
retained after the expression Roman boy was adopted. 
Another case of the same kind is unquestionably that of 
the word old in the line (^5 Tou Like It^ iv. 3), — 

Under an (old) oak, whose boughs were mossed with age. 



The Verse. 41 

The city posts by this hath entered, and 

Intends to appear before the people, hoping. — v. 5. 

I seemed his follower, not partner; and 
He waged me with his countenance, as if 
I had been mercenary. — v. 5. 

At a few drops of women's rheum, which are 
As cheap as lies. — v. 5. 

With our own charge ; making a treaty where 
There was a yielding. — v. 5. 

That prosperously I have attempted, and 
With bloody passage led your wars, even to 
The gates of Rome. — v. 5. 

Breaking his oath and resolution, like 
A twist of rotten silk. — v. 5. 

Though in this city he 
Hath widowed and unchilded many a one. — v. 5. 

These instances are abundantly sufficient to prove 
the prevalence in the Play of the peculiarity under 
consideration, and also its recognition, whether con- 
sciously and deliberately or otherwise does not mat- 
ter, by the editors. But further, we have also some 
instances in which the editors most attached to the 
original printed text have ventured to go the length 
of rearranging the verse upon this principle where it 
stands otherwise in the First Folio. Such are the 
following : — 

Commit the war of white and damask in 
Their nicely gauded cheeks. — ii. i. 

Here the Folio includes their in the first line. 

A kinder value of the people than 
He hath hereto prized them at. — ii. 2. 

The Folio gives this as prose. 

To allay my rages and revenges with 
Your colder reasons. — v. 3. 

The Folio gives from "My rages" inclusive as a 
line. 



42 Prolegomena. 

After this it is sui-ely very strange to find in our 
modern editions such manifest and gross misconcep- 
tions of the versification as the following arrange- 
ments exhibit : — 

My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, 

And — By deed-achieving honour duly named. — ii. i. 

I have seen the dumb men throng to see him, 
And — The blind to hear him speak. — ii. i. 

Have made them mutes, silenced their pleaders, 
And — Dispropertied their freedoms. — ii. i. 

Having determined of the Volsces, 

And — To send for Titus Lartius. — ii. 2. 

To gratify his noble service, that hath 
Thus — Stood for his country. — ii. 2. 

That valour is the chiefest virtue. 

And — Most dignifies the haver. — ii. 2. 

Pray you, go fit you to the custom ; 

And — Take to you, as your predecessors have. — ii. 2. 

I have seen and heard of; for your voices [voice. — ii.3. 
Have — Done many things, some less, some more; your 

Endue you with the people's voice : 
Remains — That, in the official marks invested, 
You — Anon do meet the senate. — ii. 3. 
Would think upon you for your voices. 
And — Translate his malice towards you into love. — ii. 3. 
The apprehension of his present portance, 
Which — Most gibingly, ungravely, he did fashion. — ii. 3. 

For the mutable, rank-scented many. 
Let them — Regard me as I do not flatter, 
And — Therein behold themselves. — iii. i. 

That would depopulate the city. 

And — Be every man himself. — iii. i. 

In all these instances the words which I have 
separated from those that followed them by a dash 
belong to the preceding line ; and, nearly every time 
that the first of the two lines is thus put out of joint, 
the rhythm of both is ruined. 



The Verse. 43 

The modern editor who has shown the most dis- 
position to tamper with the old text in the matter of 
the versification is Steevens. The metrical arrange- 
ment of the First Folio is undoubtedly \vrong in 
thousands of instances, and if is very evident that the 
conception which the persons by whom the printing 
was superintended had of verse was extremely im- 
perfect and confused. They would be just as likely 
to go wrong as right whenever any intricacy or indis- 
tinctness in the manuscript threw them upon their 
own resources of knowledge and critical sagacity. 
But Steevens set about the work of correction on 
false principles. Nothing elsef would satisfy him 
than to reduce the prosody of the natural dramatic 
blank verse of Shakespeare, the characteristic prod- 
uct of the sixteenth century, to the standard of the 
ti"im rhyming couplets into which Pope shaped his 
polished epigrams in the eighteenth. It is a mistake, 
however, to speak of Steevens as having no ear for 
verse. His ear was a jDracfised and correct enough 
one, only that it had been trained in a narrow school. 
Malone, on the other hand, had no notion whatever 
of verse beyond what he could obtain by counting 
the syllables on his fingers. Everything else but the 
mere number of the syllables went with him for 
nothing. This is demonstrated by all that he has 
written on the subject. And, curiously enough, Mr. 
James Boswell, the associate of his labors, appears 
to have been endowed with nearly an equal share of 
the same singular insensibility. 



44 Prolegomena. 

VII. SHAKESPEARE'S JULIUS C^SAR. 

Shakespeare's Julius Ccesar was first printed, 
as far as is known, in the First Folio collection of 
his Plays, published in 1633 ; it stands there between 
Timon of Athens and Macbeth., filling, in the divis- 
ion of the volume which begins with Coriolanus 
and extends to the end, being that occupied with the 
l^ragedies., — which is preceded by those contain- 
ing the Comedies and the Histories., — ^ the double- 
columned pages from 109 to 130 inclusive.* Here, 
at the beginning and over each page, it is entitled 
" The Tragedie of Julius Cssar ; " but in the Cata- 
logue at the beginning of the volume it is entered as 
" The Life and Death of Julius Caesar ; " other en- 
tries in the list being, among the Histories., " The 
Life and Death of King John," " The Life and Death 
of Richard the Third," " The Life of King Henry 
the Eighth," and, among the Tragedies., " The 
Tragedy of Coriolanus," " The Tragedy of Mac- 
beth," " The Tragedy of Hamlet," " King Lear," 
" Othello, the Moore of Venice." In the Second 
Folio (1632), where this series of pages includes 
Troihis aizd Cressida., " The Tragedy of Julius 
Csesar," as it is entered both in the running title and 
in the Catalogue, extends from page 129 to 150 
inclusive. In both editions the Play is divided into 
Acts, but not into Scenes ; although the First Act is 
headed in both "Actus Primus. Scoena Prima." 
There is no list in either edition of the Dramatis 
Personce., as there is with several others of the Plays 

Malone, in his " Attempt to ascertain the Order 
in which the Plays of Shakespeare were written, 

* There is a break in the pagination from loi to 108 in- 
clusive. 



The Julius C^sar. 45 

assigning Hamlet to the year 1600, Othello to 1604, 
Lear to 1605, Macbeth to 1606, Antony and CleO' 
patra to 1608, and Coriolantis to 16 10, fixes upon 
the year 1607 as the date of the composition of 
Julius Ccesar. But nothing can be more inconclu- 
sive than the grounds upon which he comes to this 
conchision. His reasoning is principally, or, indeed, 
we may say almost wholly, founded upon the fact of 
a rhyming play on the same subject by William 
Alexander, afterwards Earl of Sterline, or Stirling, 
having been first printed at London in that year (it 
had been originally printed in Scotland three years 
before), which he thinks may be presumed to have 
preceded Shakespeare's. " Shakespeare, we know," 
he. observes, in his disquisition on the Chronological 
Order ( Variorum edition, II. 445-451), " formed at 
least twelve plays on fables that had been unsuccess- 
fully managed by other poets ; but no contemporary 
writer was daring enough to enter the lists with him 
in his lifetime, or to model into a drama a subject 
which had already employed his pen ; and it is not 
likely that Lord Sterline, who was then a very young 
man, and had scarcely unlearned the Scotch idiom, 
should have been more hardy than any other poet of 
that age." Elsewhere (XII. 2) he says, " In the two 
Plays many parallel passages are found, which might 
perhaps have proceeded onl}' from the two authors 
drawing from the same source. However, there are 
some reasons for thinking the coincidence more than 
accidental." The only additional reason he gives is 
that " a passage in The Tempest (' The cloud- 
capped towers,' etc.) seems to have been copied 
from one in Darius, another Play of Lord Sterline's, 
printed at Edinburgh in 1603." Upon the subject 
of these alleged imitations by Shakespeai-e of one 



46 Prolegomena. 

of the most uninspired of his contemporaries, see 
Mr. Knight's article on this William Alexander ir 
the " Biographical Dictionary of the Society for the 
Diffusion of Useful Knowledge," Vol. II. pp. 4-7J 
They may safely be pronounced to be one and all 
purel}^ imaginary. The passage in Darius (whicl 
Play is also in rhyme), it may be noted, was removedl 
by Lord Stirling from his Play when he reprinted it 
in a revised form in 1637. This would have been 
singularly self-denying course for the noble versifier] 
to have taken if the notion that it had been either! 
plagiarized or imitated by the great English drama-j 
tist had ever crossed his mind. The resemblance, ir 
fact, is no greater than would be almost sure to 
occur in the case of any two writers in verse, hoyv- 
ever widely remote in point of genius, taking up the 
same thought, which, like the one we have here, is in 
itself almost one of the commonplaces of poetical or 
rhetorical declamation, however pre-eminently it has 
been arrayed by Shakespeare in all the " pride, 
pomp, and circumstance of glorious tuords" 

A Latin Play upon the subject of the death of 
Caesar — " Epilogus Casaris Interfecti " — the pro- 
duction of a Dr. Richard Eedes, whom Meres, in 
his Wit's Comjnonwealth^ published in 1598, men- 
tions as one of the best tragic writers of the time, 
appears to have been brought out at Christ's Church, 
Oxford, in 1582. And there is also an anonymous 
English Play of Shakespeare's age, entitled " The 
Tragedy of Caesar and Pompey, or Caesar's Re- 
venge," of which two editions have come down to 
us^ one bearing the date of 1607 (the same year in 
which Alexander's Julius Ccesar was printed at 
London), the other without date, but apparently 
earlier. This Play is often confounded with another 



The Julius C^sar. 47 

of the same title by George Chapman, which, how- 
ever, was not printed till 1631. The anonymous 
Play appears to have been first produced in 1594. 
See He7islowe^ s Diaty^ by Collier^ p. 44. Malone 
observes that " in the running title it is called The 
Tragedy of Jiilius Ccesar ; perhaps the better to 
impose it on the public for the performance of 
Shakespeare." It is not pretended, however, that it 
and Shakespeare's Play have anything in common.* 
Shakespeare's yiilius Ccesar is alluded to as one 
of the most popular of his Plays, by Leonard 
Digges (a younger brother of Sir Dudley, the pop- 
ular parliament man in the time of Charles I., and 
afterwards Master of the Rolls), in a copy of verses 
prefixed to the First Folio : — 

Nor shall I e'ei- believe or think thee dead, . . . 

. . . till I hear a scene more nobly take 

Than when thy half-sword parljing Romans spake. 

In the Prologue, also, to Beaumont and Fletcher's 
tragedy entitled The False One^^ the subject of 
which is the loves of Caesar and Cleopatra in Egypt, 
the authors vindicate themselves from the charge of 

* From a comedy called Every Woman in her Humour, 
printed in 1609, Malone quotes a passage from which he 
infers that there was an ancient droll or puppet-show on the 
subject of Julius Caesar : — "I have seen the City of Nineveh 
and Julius Ceesar acted by mammets." "I formerly sup- 
posed," Malone adds, "that this droll was formed on the 
play before us ; but have lately observed that it is mentioned 
with other motions (Jonas, Ninevie, and the Destruction of 
Jerusalem) in Marston's Dutch Courtesan, printed in 1605, 
and was probably of a much older date." i^Chroiiological 
Order, 449-) But it is not so clear that the mention ot the 
motion, or puppet-show, in 1605 would make it impossible 
that it should have been posterior to Shakespeare's Play. 

t It has been disputed whether by The False One we are 
to understand Ctesar or another character in the Play, the 
villain Septimius. A friend suggests that it may be Cleo- 
patra that is intended to be so designated. 



48 Prolegomena. 

having taken up the same ground with Shakespeare 

in the present Play : — 

Sure to tell 
Of Caesar's amorous heats, and how he fell 
r the Capitol, can never be the same 
To the judicious. 

But in what year The False One was brought 
out is not known. It certainly was not before 1608 
or 1609. 

Finally, it has been remarked that the quarrel 
scene between Brutus and Cassius, in Shakespeare's 
Play, has evidently formed the model for a similar 
one between the two friends Melantius and Amintor, 
in the Third Act of Beaumont and Fletcher's Maid's 
'Tragedy. All that is known, however, of the date 
of that Play is, that it was probably brought out 
before 161 1, in which year another Play, entitled 
The Second Maiden^ s Tragedy .^ was licensed. But 
even this is doubtful ; foy there is no resemblance, or 
connection of any kind, except that of the names, 
between the two Plays.* 

* " This tragedj^," says Malone " (as I learn from a MS. 
of Mr. Oldvs), was formerly in the possession of John War- 
burton, Esq., Somerset Herald, and since in the library of 
the Marquis of Lansdown." (^Ckrotiological Order, 450.) 
It is one of the tliree Plays which escaped destruction bj 
Mr. Warburton's cook. It has now been printed "from the 
original MS., 1611, in the Lansdown Collection" (British 
Museum), in the First No. of T/ie Old E?tglisk Drama, Lon. 
1824-25, the eight Nos. of which, making two vols., are 
commonly regarded as making a supplement to the last, or 
12 volume edition of Dodsley. The title of The Second 
Maiden's Tragedy appears to have been given to the present 
Play by Sir George Buc, the master of the Revels. The 
MS., he states, had no name inscribed on it. On the back 
of the MS. the Play is attributed to William Gotighe. After- 
wards William has been altered to Thomas. Then this name 
has been obliterated, and George Chapman substituted. 
Finally, this too has been scored through, and the author- 
ship assigned to William Shakspear. 



The Julius C^sar. 49 

On the whole, it may be inferred, from these shght 
evidences, that the present Play can hardly be as- 
signed to a later date than the year 1607 ' ^"*^ there 
is nothing to prove that it may not be of considerably 
earlier date. 

It is evident that the character and history of Julius 
Caesar had taken a strong hold of Shakespeai-e's im- 
agination. There is perhaps no other historical char- 
acter who is so repeatedly alluded to throughout his 
Plays. 

" There was never anything so sudden," says the 
disguised Rosalind in As Tou Like It (v. 2) to 
Orlando, speaking of the manner in which his 
broTher Oliver and her cousin (or sister, as she 
calls her) Celia had fallen in love with one another, 
" but the fight of t\vo rams, and Caesar's thrasonical 
brag of I came, saw, and overcame : for your brother 
and my sister no sooner met, but they looked ; no 
sooner looked, but they loved ; no sooner loved, but 
they sighed ; " etc. 

" O ! such a day," exclaims Lord Bardolph in the 
Second Part of King Henry the Fourth (i. i) to 
old Northumberland, in his misannouncement of the 
issue of the field of Shrewsbury, — 

So fought, so honoured, and so fairly won, 
Came not till now to dignify the times 
Since Csesar's fortunes. 

And afterwards (in iv. 3) we have Falstaff's mag- 
nificent gasconade : "I have speeded hither with the 
very extremest inch [ ?] of possibility : I have foun- 
dered ninescore and odd posts ; and here, travel- 
tainted as I am, have, in my pure and immaculate 
valour, taken Sir John Coleville of the Dale, a most 
furious [famous?] knight, and valorous enemy. But 
what of that? He saw me, and yielded ; that I may 
4 



5© Prolegomena. 

justly say, with the hook-nosed fellow of Rome, I 
came, saw, and overcame." 

" But now behold," says the Chorus in the Fifth 
Act of Ktfig Henry the Fifths describing the tri- 
umphant return of the English monarch from the 
conquest of France, — 

In the quick forge and working-house of thought, 
How London doth pour out her citizens. 
The mayor, and all his brethren, in best sort, 
Like to the senators of the antique Rome, 
With the plebeians swarming at their heels, 
Go forth, and fetch their conquering Csesar in. 

In the three Parts of Kijig Henry the Sixths which 
are so thickly sprinkled with classical allusions of 
all kinds, there are several to the great Roman Dic- 
tator. " Henry the Fifth ! thy ghost I invocate ; " 
the Duke of Bedford apostrophizes his deceased 
brother in the First Part (i. i) : — 

Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils ! 
Combat with adverse planets in the heavens I 
A far more glorious star thy soul will make 
Than Julius Csesar, or bright . 

In the next Scene the Maid, setting out to raise the 
siege of Orleans, and deliver her king and country, 
compares herself to 

that proud insulting ship 
Which Caesar and his fortunes bare at once. 

In the Second Part (iv. i) we have Suffolk, when 
hurried away to execution by the seamen who had 
captured him, consoling himself with — 

Great men oft die by vile bezonians : 
A Roman sworder and banditto slave 
Murdered sweet Tully ; Brutus' bastard hand 
Stabbed Julius Caesar; savage islanders 
Pompey the great; and Suffolk dies by pirates. 

And afterwards (iv. 7) we have Lord Say, in some- 



The Julius C^sar. 51 

what similar circumstances, thus appealing to Cade 
and his mob of men of Kent : — 

Hear me but speak, and bear me where jou will. 
Kent, in the Commentaries Caesar writ, 
Is termed the civilest place of all this isle ; 
Sweet is the country, because full of riches ; 
The people liberal, valiant, active, worthy; 
Which makes me hope you are not void of pity. 

" O traitors ! murderers ! " Qiieen Margaret in the 
Third Part (v. 5) shrieks out in her agony and 
rage, when the Prince her son is butchered before 
her eyes : — 

They that stabbed CiEsar shed no blood at all, 

Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame, 

If this foul deed were by to sequel it : 

He was a man ; this, in respect, a child ; 

And men ne'er spend their fury on a child. 

In King Richard the Third (iii. i) is a passage 
of great pregnancy. "Did Julius Czesar build that 
place, my lord?" the young Prince asks Bucking- 
ham, when it is proposed that he shall retire for a 
day or two to the Tower before his coronation. 
And, when informed in reply that the mighty Ro- 
man at least began the building, he further in- 
quires, — 

Is it upon record, or else reported 
Successively from age to age, he built it? 

" It is upon record, my gracious lord," answers 
Buckingham. On which the wise royal boy re- 
joins, — 

But say, my lord, it were not registered, 

Methinks the truth should live from age to age, 

As 'twere retailed to all posterity. 

Even to the general all-ending day. 

And then, after a "What say you, uncle?" he ex- 
plains the great thought that was woi^king in his 
mind in these striking words : — 



52 Prolegomena. 

That Julius Caesar was a famous man: 
With what his valour did enrich his wit 
His wit set down to make his valour live. 
Death makes no conquest of this conqueror,* 
For now he lives in fame, though not in life. 

Far away from anything Roman as the fable and 
locality of Hamlet are, various passages testify how 
much Caesar was in the mind of Shakespeare while 
writing that Play. First, we have the famous pas- 
sage (i. i) so closely resembling one in the Second 
Scene of the Second Act of Julius Ccesar : — 

In the most high and palmy state of Rome, 
A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, 
The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead 
Did sque'ak and gibber in the Roman streets ; 
As t stars with trains of fire, and dews of blood, 
Disasters in the sun ; and the moist star. 
Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands, 
Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse. J 

Then there is (iii. 2) the conversation between 
Hamlet and Polonius, touching the histrionic ex- 
ploits of the latter in his university days : " I did 
enact Julius Caesar : I was killed i' the Capitol ; 
Brutus killed me." " It was a drzile part of him to 
kill so capital a calf there " (surely, by the by, to 
be spoken aside, though not so marked). Lastly, 
there is the Prince's rhyming moralization (v. i) : — 

Imperial Caesar, dead and turned to clay. 
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away. 

* " His conqueror " is the reading of all the Folios. 
" This" was restored by Theobald from the Quarto of 1597, 
and has been adopted by Malone and most modern editors. 

t Something is evidently wrong here; but even Mr. Col- 
lier's annotator gives us no help. 

X This passage, however, is found only in the Quartos, 
and is omitted in all the Folios. Nor, although retained by 
Mr. Collier in his "regulated" text, is it stated to be re- 
stored by his MS. annotator. 



The Julius C^sar. 53 

O, that that earth which kept the world in awe 
Should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw ! 

Many notices of Caesar occur, as might be expected, 
in Cynibeline. Such are the boast of Posthumus to 
his friend Philario (ii. 4) of the valor of the Brit- 
ons : — 

Our countrymen 
Are men more ordered than when Julius Csesar 
Smiled at their lack of skill, but found their courage 
Worthy his frowning at ; 

Various passages in the First Scene of the Third 

Act: — 

When Julius Caesar (whose remembrance yet 
Lives in men's eyes, and will to ears and tongues 
Be theme and hearing ever) was in this Britain, 
And conquered it, Cassibelan, thine uncle 
(Famous in Caesar's praises no whit less 
Than in his feats deserving it), etc. ; 

There be many Caesars, 
Ere such another Julius ; 

A kind of conquest 
Caesar made here ; but made not here his brag 
Of catne, and saw, and overcame : with shame 
(The first that ever touched him) he was carried 
From off our coast twice beaten ; and his shipping 
(Poor ignorant baubles ! ) on our terrible seas. 
Like egg-shells moved upon their surges, cracked 
As easily 'gainst our rocks. For joy whereof 
The famed Cassibelan, who was once at point 
(O giglot Fortune ! ) to master Caesar's sword, 
Made Lud's town with rejoicing fires bright. 
And Britons strut with courage ; 
Our kingdom is stronger than it was at that time ; and, 
as I said, there is no more such Caesars ; other of them may 
have crooked noses ; but to owe such straight arms, none ; 
Caesar's ambition 
(Which swelled so much that it did almost stretch 
The sides o' the world) against all colour, here, 
Did put the yoke upon us ; which to shake off 



54 Prolegomena. 

Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon 
Ourselves to be. 

Lastly, we have a few references in Antony and Cleo' 
patra; such as, — 

Broad-fronted C^sar, 
When thou wast here above the ground, I Avas 
A morsel for a monarch (i. 4) ; 

Julius Caesar, 
Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted (ii. 6) ; 

What was it 
That moved pale Cassius to conspire ? And what 
Made the all-honoured, honest, Roman Brutus, 
With the armed rest, and courtiers of beauteous free- 
dom. 
To drench the Capitol, but that thej would 
Have one man but a man? (ii. 6) ; 

Your fine Egj'ptian cookery 
Shall have the fame. I have heard that Julius Csesar 
GrcAV fat with feasting there (ii. 6) ; 

When Antony found Julius Caesar dead. 
He cried almost to roaring ; and he wept 
When at Philippi he found Brutus slain (iii. 2) ; 

Thyreus. — Give me grace to lay 
My duty on your hand. 

Cleopatra. — Your Cccsar's father oft. 
When he hath mused of taking kingdoms in, 
Bestowed his lips on that unworthy place 
As it rained kisses (iii. 11). 

These passages, taken all together, and some of 
them more particularly, will probably be thought to 
afford a considerably more comprehensive represen- 
tation of "the mighty Julius" than the Play which 
bears his name. We cannot be sure that that Play 
was so entitled by Shakespeare. " The Tragedy 
of Julius Casar," or " The Life and Death of Julius 
Cassar," would describe no more than the half of it. 
Cfesar's part in it terminates with the opening of the 



The Julius C^sar. 55 

Third Act ; after that, on to the end, we have noth- 
ing more of him but his dead body, his ghost, and 
his memory. The Play might more fitly be called 
after Brutus than after Cassar. And still more re- 
markable is the partial delineation that we have of 
the man. We have a distinct exhibition of little else 
beyond his vanity and arrogance, relieved and set 
off by his good-nature or affability. He is brought 
before us only as " the spoilt child of victory." All 
the grandeur and predominance of his character is 
kept in the background, or in the shade — to be in- 
ferred, at most, from what is said by the other 
dramatis persoiitE — by Cassius on the one hand 
and by Antony on the other in the expression of 
their own diametrically opposite natures and aims, 
and in a very few words by the calmer, milder, and 
juster Brutus — nowhere manifested by himself. It 
might almost be suspected that the complete and 
full-length Ctesar had been carefully reserved for 
another drama. Even Antony is only half delin- 
eated here, to be brought forward again on another 
scene : Caesar needed such reproduction much more, 
and was as well entitled to a stage which he should 
tread without an equal. He is only a subordinate 
character in the present Play ; his death is but an 
incident in the progress of the plot. The first 
figures, standing conspicuously out from all the rest, 
are Brutus and Cassius. 

Some of the passages that have been collected are 
further curious and interesting as being other render- 
ings of conceptions that are also found in the present 
Play, and as consequently furnishing data both for 
the problem of the chronological arrangement of the 
Plays, and for the general history of the mind and 
artistic genius of the writer. After all the commen- 



56 Prolegomena. 

tatorship and criticism of which the works of Shake- 
speare have been the subject, they still remain to be 
studied in their totality with a special reference to 
himself. The man Shakespeare, as read in his 
works — Shakespeare as there revealed, not only in 
his genius and intellectual powers, but in his char- 
acter, disposition, temper, opinions, tastes, prejudices, 
— is a book yet to be written. 

It is remarkable, that not only in the present Play, 
but also in Hamlet^ and in Anto7zy and Cleopatra, 
the assassination of Caesar should be represented as 
having taken place in the Capitol. From the Pro- 
logue, quoted above, to Beaumont and Fletcher's 
tragedy of The JFalse One^ too, it would appear as 
if this had become the established popular belief; 
but the notion may, very pi'obably, be older than 
Shakespeare. 

Another deviation from the literalities of history 
which we find in the Play, is making the Trium- 
virs, in the opening scene of the Fourth Act, hold 
their meeting in Rome. But this may have been 
done deliberately, and neither from ignorance nor 
forgetfulness. 

I have had no hesitation in discarding, with all the 
modern editors, such absurd perversions as Antonio^ 
Flavio, Lucio, which never can have proceeded from 
Shakespeare, wherever they occur in the old copies ; 
and in adopting Theobald's rectification of Mtirellus 
for Marullus, which also cannot be supposed to be 
anything else than a inistake made in the printing 
or transcription. But it seems hardly worth while 
to change our familiar Portia into Porcia (although 
Johnson, without being followed, has adopted that 
perhaps more correct spelling in his edition). 

The peculiarity of the form given to the name of 



The Julius C^sar. 57 

Ceesar's wife in this Play does not seem to have been 
noticed. Tlie only form of the name known to 
antiquity is Calpiirnia. And that is also the name 
even in North's English translation of Plutarch^ 
Shakespeare's great authority. [This is an error, 
into which White also, who changes the name to 
Calpurnia^ has fallen. In the first (1579) edition 
of North's Plutarch — the edition which Shake- 
speare must have used — the name is Calphiirnia 
(see p. 769) ! t»ut in some of the later editions — 
that of 1676, for instance — I find it changed to Cal- 
pitrma.~\ I have not, however, ventured to rectify 
it, in the possibility that, although a con^upt form, it 
?nay be one which Shakespeare found established in 
the language, and in possession of the public ear. 
In that case, it is to be classed with Anthony, 
Prothetis^ and Bosphorus, the common modern cor- 
ruption of the classic Bosporus^ which even Gibbon 
does not hesitate to use. 

The name of the person called Decius Brutus 
throughout the play was Decimus Brutus. Decius 
is not, like Decimus, a praenomen, but a gentilitial 
name. The error, however, is as old as the edition of 
Plutarch's Greek text produced by Henry Stephens 
in 1572 ; * and it occurs likewise in the accompa- 
nying Latin translation, and both in Amyot's and 
Dacier's French, as well as in North's English. It 
is also found in Philemon Holland's translation of 
Suetofzius, published in 1606. Lord Stirling, in his 
jfulius Ccesar, probably misled in like manner by 
North, has fallen into the same mistake with Shake- 
speare. That Decius is no error of the press is 
shown by its occurrence sometimes in the verse in 
places where Decimus could not stand. 

* 'Ev 6e roiiTia Aixios Bpoiiroj iiTlKXrjmv 'AX^Ivos. Vit. C(BS. p. 1354. 



58 Prolegomena. 

Finally, it may be noticed that it was really this 
Decimus Brutus who had been the special friend 
and favorite of Cffisar, not Marcus Junius Brutus the 
conspirator, as represented in the Play. In his mis- 
conception upon this point our English dramatist has 
been followed by Voltaire in his tragedy of La Mort 
de Cesar ^ which is written avowedly in imitation of 
the yulius Ccesar of Shakespeare. 



NOTE. ! 

At the end of the Prolegomena, in Craik's third edition, 
is the following note : 

- " I have not thought it necessary, in the present revision, 
to make the numerous typographical rectifications which 
would have been required in the margin of every page, and 
also in many of the references, to remove the traces of an 
unimportant error of one in the numbering of the speeches 
from 249, which ought to be 248, onwards to the end of the 
play." 

In this American edition I determined to make these 
" numerous typographical rectifications," and did not hap- 
pen to notice, until the book was almost ready to go to 
press, that Craik!s eri-or was not ivkere he supposed it to be 
(from 249 onwards), but merely in numbering 246 and 247, 
which he makes, as I have done, 245 and 246. 

It is rather provoking to find that I have thus been at con- 
siderable trouble to con-ect {inore Hibernico~) the imaginary 
error, while I have retained the real one ; but it cannot now 
be helped, and luckily both errors are " unimportant." I 
shall be pardoned, of course, for not distrusting the author's 
statement in regard to his own mistakes. W. J. R. { 



JULIUS CJESAR. 



PERSONS REPRESENTED. 



JULIUS C^SAE. 

OCTAVrUS C^SAR, T Triumvirs, 
MARCUS A:\"T0NIUS, \ after the death 
M. ^MTL. LEPIDUS, J o/JuliusCiesar. 
CICERO, PUBLIUS, POPIUXrS LENA; 

Setiators. 
5IARCUS BRUTUS, 
CASSIUS, 
CASCA, 
TREBONTUS, 
LIGARIUS, 
DECIUS BRUTUS, 
METELLUS CUMBER, 
CINNA, 

FLAVrUS and JIARULLUS, Tribunes. 
ARTESHDORUS, a Sophist of Cuidos. 



Co7U'q)irators 

■ against Julius 

Csesar. 



A SOOTHSAYER. 

CINNA, a Poet.— Another POET. 

LUCILIUS, TITINIUS, IIESSALA, 

Young CATO, and VOLUMNIUS; 

Frie7icls to Brutus and Cassius. 
TAERO, CLITUS, CLAUDIUS, STRA- 

TO, LUCIUS, DARDANIUS; Servants 

to Brutus. 
PLNDARUS, Servant to Cassius. 



CALPHURNIA, Wife to Csesar. 
PORTIA, Wife to Brutus. 



Senatoes, Citizens, Guaeds, Attend- 
ants, ETC. 



Scene, during' a great fart of the Play., at Rome ; after- 
wards at Sardis ; and near Philtffi. 



ACT I. 



SCENE I.—Rotne. A Street. 
Etiter Flavius, Marullus, atid a Rabble of Citizens. 

I. Flav. Hence! home, you idle creatures, get jou home. 
Is this a holiday "i What ! know you not. 
Being mechanical, you ought not walk, 
Upon a labouring day, without the sign 
Of your profession.'' — Speak, what trade art thou? 
I Cit. Why, Sir, a carpenter. 
Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule.^ 
What dost thou with thy best apparel on ? — 
You, Sir ; what trade are you ? 



6o Julius C^sar. [act i. 

2 Cit. Truly, Sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am 
but, as 3'ou would say, a cobbler. 

Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly. 

6. 2 Cit. A trade, Sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe 
conscience; which is, indeed. Sir, a mender of bad soles. 

7. Mar. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, 

what trade ? 

8. 2 C//. Nay, I beseech you, Sir, be not out with me : 
yet if you be out, Sir, I can mend you. 

9. Mar. What mean'st thou by that? Mend me, thou 
saucy fellow? 

2 Cit. Why, Sir, cobble you. 

Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou ? 
12. 2 Cit. Truly, Sir, all that I live by is with the awl. I 
meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's mat- 
ters, but with awl. I am, indeed, Sir, a surgeon to old 
shoes ; when they are in great danger, I recover them. 
As proper men as ever trod upon neat's leather have gone 
upon my handiwork. 

Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day? 
Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? 

2 Cit. Truly, Sir, to wear out their shoes, to get my- 
self into more work. But, indeed. Sir, we make holiday 
to see Ceesar, and to rejoice in his triumph. 
15. Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he 
home ? 
What tributaries follow him to Rome, 
To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels? 
You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things I 
O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, 
Knew you not Pompey ? Many a time and oft 
Have you climbed up to walls and battlements, 
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, 
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat 
The live-long day, with patient expectation. 
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome : 
And, when you saw his chariot but appear, 
Have you not made an universal shout, 
That Tiber trembled underneath her banks, 
To hear the replication of your sounds 
Made in her concave shores? 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 6i 

And do you now put on your best attire ? 
And do you now cull out a holiday? 
And do you now strew flovrers in his way, 
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? 
Be gone ! 

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, 
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague 
That needs must light on this ingratitude. 
i6. Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault, 
Assemble all the poor men of your sort; 
Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears 
Into the channel, till the lowest stream 
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all. \_Exeunt Citizens. 
See, whe'r their basest metal be not moved ! 
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness. 
Go you down that way towards the Capitol ; 
This way will I. Disrobe the images. 
If you do find them decked with ceremonies. 

17. Mar. May we do so.'' 

You know it is the feast of Lupercal. 

18. Flav. It is no matter ; let no images 

Be hung with Ccesar's trophies. I'll about, 

And drive away the vulgar from the streets ; 

So do you too, where you perceive them thick. 

These growing feathers plucked from Ceesar's wing 

Will make him fly an ordinary pitch ; 

Who else would soar above the view of men. 

And keep us all in servile fearfulness. [^Exeunt. 

SCENE IT. — The same. A Public Place. 

Enter, in Processio7i with Music, C^sar; Antony, /br the 
course ; Calphurnia, Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, 
Cassius, and Casca, a great croxvd folloiving, among 
them a Soothsayer. 

Cces. Calphurnia, — 

Casca. Peace, ho ! Csesar speaks. \_Music ceases. 

CcBs. Calphurnia, — 
Cal. Here, my lord. 
23. C<ss. Stand you directly in Antonius' way, 
When he doth run his course. — Antonius. 



62 Julius C^sar. [act i. 

Ant. Caesar, my lord. 
25. Cess. Forget not, in your speed, Antonius, 
To touch Calphurnia ; for our elders say. 
The barren, touched in this holy chase, 
.Shake oft" their sterile curse. 

Ant. I shall remember : 
When Caesar says. Do this, it is performed. 

Cces. Set on ; and leave no ceremony out. [^Music. 

Sooth. Caesar. 

CcEs. Ha! who calls.'' 

Casca. Bid every noise be still. — Peace yet again. 

[Music ceases. 

Cees. Who is it in the press that calls on me .'' 
I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music, 
Cry, CjEsar. Speak ; Ceesar is turned to hear. 
32. Sooth. Beware the ides of March. 

Cces. What man is that.? 
34. Bru. A soothsayer, bids 3-ou beware the ides of March. 

CcBs. Set him before me ; let me see his face. 

Cas. Fellow, come from the throng : look upon Caesar. 

Cces. What say'st thou to me now .'' Speak once again. 

Sooth. Bewai-e the ides of March. 
39. Cces. He is a dreamer : let us leave him ; — pass. 

[Sennet. Exezmt all but Brutus and Cassius. 

Cas. Will you go see the order of the course .'' 

Bru. Not I. 

Cas. I pray you, do. 

Bru. I am not gamesome : I do lack some part 
Of that quick spirit that is in Antony. 
Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires; 
I'll leave you. 

44. Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late : 
I have not from your eyes that gentleness 
And shew of love as I was wont to have : 
You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand 
Over your fi-iend that loves 3'ou. 

45. Bru. Cassius, 

Be not deceived : if I have veiled my look, 
I turn the trouble of my countenance 
Merely upon mj-^self. Vexed I am 
Of late with passions of some difference, 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 63 

Conceptions only proper to myself, 

Which give some soil, perhaps, to my behaviors : 

But let not therefore my good friends be grieved 

(Among which number, Cassius, be 3'ou one) ; 

Nor construe any further my neglect, 

Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war, 

Forgets the shews of love to other men. 

46. Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion; 
By means whereof, this breast of mine hath buried 
Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. 
Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face? 

47.. Bru. No, Cassius : for the eye sees not itself, 
But by reflection, by some other things. 

48. Cas. 'Tis just : 

And it is very much lamented, Brutus, 
That you have no such mirrors as will turn 
Your hidden worthiness into your eye. 
That you might see your shadow. I have heard, 
Where many of the best respect in Rome 
(Except immortal Caesar), speaking of Brutus, 
And groaning underneath this age's yoke, 
Have wished that noble Brutus had his eyes. 

Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, 
That you would have me seek into myself 
For that which is not in»me ! 

50. Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear: 
And, since you know you cannot see j^ourself 

So well as by reflection, I, j'our glass, 

Will modestly discover to yourself 

That of yourself which you yet know not of. 

And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus : 

Were I a common laugher, or did use 

To stale with ordinary oaths my love 

To every new protester ; if you know 

That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard, 

And after scandal them ; or if you know 

That I profess myself in banqueting 

To all the rout, then hold me dangerous. 

\^Flourisk and shout. 

51. Bru. What means this shouting .'* I do fear, the people 
Choose Csesar for their king. 



64 Julius C^sar. [act i. 

Cas. Ay, do you fear it ? 
Then must I think you would not have it so. 

53. Bru. I would not, Cassius ; yet I love him well. — 
But wherefore do you hold me here so long.-* 

What is it that you would impart to me.'' 
If it be aught toward the general good, 
Set honor in one eye, and death i' the other, 
And I will look on both indifferently : 
For, let the gods so speed me, as I love 
The name of honor more than I fear death. 

54. Cas. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, 
As well as I do know your outward favour. 
Well, Honor is the subject of my story. — 

I cannot tell what you and other men 

Think of this life ; but, for my single self, 

I had as lief not be as live to be 

In awe of such a thing as I myself. 

I was born free as Ceesar; so were you : 

We both have fed as well ; and we can both 

Endure the winter's cold as well as he. 

For once, upon a raw and gusty day, 

The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, 

C<Esar said to me, Dar'st thou, Cassius, now 

Leap in ivith tne into this a7ig}'y Jlood, 

And sivim to yonder point ? Upon the woi^, 

Accoutred as I was, I plunged in. 

And bade him follow : so, indeed, he did. 

The torrent i-oared ; and we did buffet it 

With lusty sinews ; throwing it aside, 

And stemming it with hearts of controversy. 

But ere we could arrive the point proposed, 

CjEsar cried, Help me, Cassius, or I sink. 

I, as ^neas, our great ancestor, 

Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder 

The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber 

Did I the tired Ctesar. And this man 

Is now become a god ; and Cassius is 

A Avretched creature, and inust bend his body 

If Caesar carelessly but nod on him. 

He had a fever when he was in Spain, 

And, when the fit was on him, I did mark 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 65 

How he did shake : 'tis true, this god did shake : 

His coward lips did from their colour flj ; 

And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world, 

Did lose his lustre. I did hear him groan : 

Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans 

Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, 

Alas ! it cried, Give me some drink, Titinius, 

As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me, 

A man of such a feeble temper should 

So get the start of the majestic world, 

And bear the palm alone. {^Shout. Flourish. 

55. Bru. Another general shout ! 

I do believe, that these applauses are 

For some new honors that are heaped on Ceesar. 

56. Cas. Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world 
Like a Colossus ; and we petty men 

Walk under his huge legs, and peep about 

To find ourselves dishonorable graves. 

Men at some time ai-e masters of their fates : 

Tlie fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars. 

But in ourselves, that we are underlings. 

Brutus and Ccesar: what should be in that Ccssar? 

Why should that name be sounded more than yours ? 

Write them together, yours is as fair a name ; 

Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well ; 

Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em, 

Brutus will stai-t a spirit as soon as Ccesar. [SAouf. 

Now, in the names of all the gods at once. 

Upon what meat doth this our Ctesar feed. 

That he is grown so great .'' Age, thou art shamed : 

Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods ! 

When went there by an age, since the great flood, 

But it was famed with more than with one man.'' 

When could they say, till now, that talked of Rome, 

That her wide walls encompassed but one man? 

Now is it Rome indeed, and room enough, 

When there is in it but one only man. 

O ! you and I have heard our fathers say, 

Thei-e was a Brutus once, that would have brooked 

The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome 

As easily as a king. 

5 



66 Julius C^sar. [act i. 



57. Bru. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous ; 
What you would work me to, I have some aim ; 
How I have thought of this, and of these times, 
I shall recount hereafter ; for this present, 
I would not, so with love I might entreat you, 
Be any further moved. What j'ou have said, 
I will consider ; what you have to say, 

I will with patience hear : and find a time 

Both meet to hear, and answer, such high things. 

Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this : 

Brutus had rather be a villager, 

Than to repute himself a son of Rome 

Under these hard conditions as this time 

Is like to lay upon us. 

58. Cas. I am glad, that my weak words 

Have struck but this much shew of fire from Brutus. 

Re-enter C^sar and his Train. 
Bru. The games are done and Ceesar is returning, 

60. Cas. As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve; 
And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you 

What hath proceeded worthy note to-day. 

61. Brii. I will do so. — But, look you, Cassius, 
The angry spot doth glow on Czesar's brow, 
And all the rest look like a chidden train : 
Calphurnia's cheek is pale ; and Cicero 
Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes, 
As we have seen him in the Capitol, 

Being crossed in conference by some senators. 

62. Cas. Casca will tell us what the matter is. 
Cces. Antonius. 

Ant. Ceesar. 

65. CcBS. Let me have men about me that are fat; 
Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights : 
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look ; 

He thinks too much : such men are dangerous. 

66. A7it. Fear him not, Csesar; he's not dangerous. 
He is a noble Roman, and well given. 

67. C(Bs. Would he were fatter. — But I fear him not. 
Yet, if my name were liable to fear, 

I do not know the man I should avoid 

So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much ; 



J 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 67 

He is a great observer, and he looks 

Quite tlirough the deeds of men : he loves no plajs, 

As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music: 

Seldom he smiles ; and smiles in such a sort, 

As if he mocked himself, and scorned his spirit 

That could be moved to smile at anything. 

Such men as he be never at heart's ease, 

Whiles they behold a greater than themselves ; 

And therefore are they very dangerous. 

I rather tell thee what is to be feared 

Than what I fear ; for always I am Csesar. 

Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, 

And tell me truly vi^hat thou think'st of him. 

\_Sennet. Exeunt Caesar and his Train. Casca stays 
behind. 

Casca. You pulled me by the cloak : would you speak 
with me ? 
69. Bru. Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chanced to-day, 
That C^sar looks so sad. 

Casca. Why, you were with him, were you not? 

Bru. I should not then ask Casca what had chanced. 

Casca. Why, there was a crown offered him : and, being 
offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand, thus; 
and then the people fell a-shouting. 

Bru. What was the second noise for.? 

Casca. Why, for that too. 

Cas. They shouted thi-ice : what was the last cry for ? 

Casca. Why, for that too. 

Bru. Was the crown offered him thrice ? 
78. Casca. Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every 
time gentler than other; and, at every putting by, mine 
honest neighbours shouted. 

Cas. Who offered him the crown ? 

Casca. Why, Antony. 

Brit. Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca. 
82. Casca. I can as well be hanged, as tell the manner of 
it : it was mere foolery, I did not mark it. I saw Mark 
Antony offer him a crown; — yet 'twas not a crown 
neither, 'twas one of these coronets ; — and, as I told 
you, he put it by once ; but, for all that, to my thinking, 
he would fain have had it. Then he offered it to him 



68 Julius C^sar. [act i. 

again ; then he put it by again ; but, to my thinking, he 
was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he 
offered it the third time ; he put it the third time by : and 
still as he refused it, the rabblement shouted, and clapped 
their chopped hands, and threw up their sweaty night- 
caps, and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because 
Caesar refused the crown, that it had almost choked Cae- 
sar; for he swooned, and fell down at it. And, for my 
own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of opening my lips, 
and receiving the bad air. 
83. Cas. But, soft, I pray you. What! did Caesar swoon? 
Casca. He fell down in the market-place, and foamed 
at mouth, and was speechless. 

85. Bru. 'Tis very like : he hath the falling sickness. 

86. Cas. No, Caesar hath it not; but you and I, 
And honest Casca, we have the falling sickness. 

87. Casca. I know not what you mean by that; but I am 
sure Caesar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not clap 
him, and hiss him, according as he pleased and displeased 
them, as they use to do the players in the theatre, I am no 
true man. 

Bru. What said he, when he came unto himself.-' 
89. Casca. Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived 
the common herd was glad he refused the crown, he 
plucked me ope his doublet, and offered them his throat 
to cut. — An I had been a man of any occupation, if] 
would not have taken him at a word, I would I might gc 
to hell among the rogues. And so he fell. When he came 
to himself again, he said, if he had done or said any 
thing amiss, he desired their worships to think it was hij 
infirmity. Three or four wenches, where I stood, cried; 
Alas, good soul ! — and forgave him with all their hearts, 
But there's no heed to be taken of them : if Caesar had 
stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less. 

Bru. And after that he came thus sad away? 

Casca. Ay. 

Cas. Did Cicero say anything? 

Casca. Ay, he spoke Greek. 

Cas. Towhateftect? 
95. Casca. Nay, an I tell you that, I'll ne'er look you i' thel 
face again. But those that understood him smiled at cm 



c. II.] Julius C^sar. 69 

■ another, and shook their heads ; but, for my own pajt, 

" it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too : 

Marullus and Flavins, for pulling scarfs off Caesar's im- 

' ages, are put to silence. Fare you well. There was more 

foolery yet, if I could remember it. 
' Cas. Will 3'ou sup with me to-night, Casca? 

" 97. Casca. No, I am promised forth. 

Cas. Will you dine with me to-morrow ? 
Casca. Ay, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your 
dinner worth the eating. 

Cas. Good : I will expect you. 

Casca. Do so. Farewell, both. [Exz'i Casca. 

102. Bru. What a blunt fellow is this grown to be ! 
He was quick mettle Avhen he went to school. 

103. Cas. So is he now, in execution 
Of any bold or noble enterprise. 
However he puts on this tardy form. 
This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit. 
Which gives men stomach to digest his words 
With better appetite. 

104. Bru. And so it is. For this time I Avill leave you : 
To-morrow if you plea'se to speak with me, 

I will come home to you ; or, if you will. 
Come home to me, and I will wait for you. 

105. Cas. I will do so : — till then, think of the world. 

lExt'i Brutus. 
Well, Brutus, thou art noble ; yet, I see, 
Thy honorable metal may be wrought 
From that it is disposed : therefore it is meet 
That noble minds keep ever with their likes ; 
For who so firm, that cannot be seduced.-* 
Caesar doth bear me hard ; but he loves Brutus : 
If I were Brutus now, and he were Cassius, 
He should not humour me. I will this night, 
In several hands, in at his windows throw, 
As if they came from several citizens. 
Writings all tending to the great opinion 
That Rome holds of his name ; wherein obscurely 
Caesar's ambition shall be glanced at : 
And, after this, let Caesar seat him sure ; 
For we will shake him, or worse days endure. [^Exii, 



7© Julius C^sar. [act i. 



SCENE III. — Tke same. A Street. 

Thunder and Lightning. Enter., from opposite sides, Casca, 
■with his svjord drawn, and Cicero. 

106. Cic. Good even, Casca. Brought you Caesar home? 
Why are you breathless? and why stare you so? 

107. Casca. Are not you moved, when all the sway of eartl 
Shakes, like a thing unfirm? O Cicero, 
I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds 
Have rived the knotty oaks ; and I have seen 
The ambitious ocean swell, and rage, and foam, 
To be exalted with the threatening clouds : 
But never till to-night, never till now, 
Did I go through a tempest dropping fire. 
Either there is a civil strife in heaven. 
Or else the world, too saucy with the gods, 
Incenses them to send destruction. 

108. Cic. Why, saw you anything more wonderful? 

109. Casca. A common slave (you know him well by sightj 
Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn 
Like twenty torches joined ; and yet his hand, 
Not sensible of fire, remained unscorched. 
Besides (I have not since put up my sword). 
Against the Capitol I met a lion. 
Who glared upon me, and went surly by, 
Without annoying me : and there were di'awn 
Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women, 
Transformed with their fear; who swore they saw 
Men all in fire walk up and down the streets. 
And yesterday the bird of night did sit, 
Even at noonday, upon the market-place, 
Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies 
Do so conjointly meet, let not men say. 
These are their reasons, — they are natural ; 
For, I believe, they are portentous things 
Unto the climate that they point upon. 

no. Cic. Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time: 
But men may construe things after their fashion, 
Clean from the purpose of the things themselves. 
Comes Caesar to the Capitol to-morrow? 









sc. III.] Julius C^sar, 71 

Casca. He doth ; for he did bid Antonius 
Send word to vou, he would be thei-e to-morrow. 
112. Ctc. Good night, then, Casca: this disturbed sky 
Is not to walk in. 

Casca. Farewell, Cicero. [^Exit Cicero. 

Enter Cassius. 

Cas. Who's there? 

Casca. A Roman. 

Cas. Casca, by your voice. 
117. Casca. Your ear is good. Cassius, what a night is 
this! 

Cas. A very pleasing night to honest men. 

Casca. Who ever knew the heavens menace so } 
120. Cas. Those that have known the earth so full of faults. 
For my part, I have walked about the streets, 
Submitting me unto the perilous night; 
And, thus unbraced, Casca, as you see. 
Have bared my bosom to the thunder-stone : 
And, when the cross blue lightning seemed to open 
The breast of heaven, I did present myself 
Even in the aim and very flash of it. 

Casca. But wherefore did you so much tempt the 
heavens ? 
It is the part of men to fear and tremble. 
When the most mighty gods, by tokens, send 
Such dreadful heralds to astonish us. 
123. Cas. You are dull, Casca; and those sparks of life 
That should be in a Roman you do want. 
Or else you use not. You look pale, and gaze, 
And put on fear, and cast yourself in wonder, 
To see the strange impatience of the heavens : 
But if you would consider the true cause. 
Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts, 
Why birds, and beasts, from quality and kind ; 
Why old men, fools, and children calculate ; 
Why all these things change from their ordinance, 
Their natures, and pre-formed faculties, 
To monstrous quality ; why, you shall find, 
That heaven hath infused them with these spirits, 
To make them instruments of fear and warning 



72 Julius C^sar. [act i 

Unto some monstrous state. Now could I, Casca, 

Name to thee a man most like this dreadful night ; 

That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars, 

As doth the lion, in the Capitol : 

A man no mightier than thyself or me, 

In personal action ; yet prodigious grown, 

And fearful, as these strange eruptions are. 

Casca. 'Tis Caesar that you mean : is it not, CassiusJ 
124. Cas. Let it be who it is : for Romans now 
Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors. 
But, woe the Avhile ! our fathers' minds are dead, 
And we are governed with our mothers' spirits ; 
Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish. 

Casca. Indeed, they say, the senators to-morrow 
Mean to establish Caesar as a king : 
And he shall wear his crown by sea and land, 
In every place, save here in Italy. 

126. Cas. I know where I will wear this dagger, then; 
Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius : 
Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong ; 
Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat. 
Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, 
Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron. 
Can be retentive to the strength of spirit ; 
But life, being weary of these worldly bars. 
Never lacks power to dismiss itself. 
If I know this, know all the world besides. 
That part of tyranny that I do bear 
I can shake off at pleasure. \Thunder still, 

127. Casca. So can I : 
So ever}' bondman in his own hand bears 
The power to cancel his captivity. 

128. Cas. And why should Cresar be a tyrant, then? 
Poor rnan ! I know, he would not be a wolf, 
But that he sees the Romans are but sheep : 
He were no lion, were not Romans hinds. 
Those that with haste will make a mighty fire 
Begin it with weak straws': what trash is Rome, 
What rubbish, and what offal, when it serves 
For the base matter to illuminate 
So vile a thing as Caesar ! But, O, grief! 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 73 

Where hast thou led me ? I, perhaps, speak this 
Before a willing bondman : then I know 
My answer must be made. But I am armed, 
And dangers are to me indifferent. 

129. Casca. You speak to Casca ; and to such a man, 
That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand : 

Be factious for redress of all these griefs, 
And I will set this foot of mine as far 
As who goes farthest. 

130. Cas. There's a bargain made. 

Now know you, Casca, I have moved ali-eady 

Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans 

To undergo, with me, an enterprise 

Of honorable-dangerous consequence ; 

And I do know by this they stay for me 

In Pompey's porch : for now, this fearful night, 

There is no stir or walking in the streets; 

And the complexion of the element 

In favour 's like the work we have in hand. 

Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible. 

Enter Cinna. 

Casca. Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste. 
Cas. 'Tis Cinna, I do know him by his gait ; 
He is a friend. — Cinna, where haste you so .'' 

Cin. To find out you. Who's that.? Metellus Cimber? 

134. Cas. No, it is Casca ; one incorporate 

To our attempts. Am I not staid for, Cinna.? 

135. Cin. I am glad on't. What a fearful night is this ! 
There's two or three of us have seen strange sights. 

136. Cas. Am I not staid for .? Tell me. 

137. Cin. Yes, you are. — •• 
O Cassius, if you could 

But win the noble Brutus to our party ! 

138. Cas. Be you content. Good Cinna, take this paper, 
And look you lay it in the praetor's chair, 

Where Brutus may but find it ; and throw this 

In at his window : set this up with wax 

Upon old Brutus' statue : all this done. 

Repair to Pompey's porch, where you shall find us. 

Is Decius Brutus, and Trebonius there? 



74 Julius C^sar. [act ii» 



I 



139, Cin. All but Metellus Cimber ; and he's gone 
To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie, 
And so bestow these papers as you bade me. 

140. Cas. That done, repair to Pompey's theatre. 

[^Exit CiNN. 
Come, Casca, you and I will yet, ere day, 
See Brutus at his house : three parts of him 
Is ours already; and the man entire. 
Upon the next encounter, yields him ours. 

Casca. O, he sits high in all the people's hearts ; 
And that which would appear offence in us, 
His countenance, like richest alchemy. 
Will change to virtue, and to worthiness. 
142. Cas. Him, and his worth, and our great need of hinij 
You have right well conceited. Let us go, 
For it is after midnight ; and, ere day, 
We will awake him, and be sure of him. \_Exeunt, 



ACT II. 

SCENE I. — The same. Brutus's Orchard. 

Enter Brutus. 






143. Bru. What, Lucius ! ho ! 

I cannot, by the progress of the stars, 

Give guess how near to day. — Lucius, I say 1 — 

I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly. — 

When, Lucius.? when? Awake, I say 1 What, Lucius I 

Enter Lucius. 

Luc. Called you, my lord ? 

Bru. Get me a taper in my study, Lucius : 
When it is lighted, come and call me here. 

Luc. I will, my lord. \Exii, 

147. Bru. It must be by his death : and, for my part, 
I know no personal cause to spurn at him, 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 75 

But for the general. He would be crowned : — 

How that might change his nature, there's the question. 

It is the bright day that brings forth the adder ; 

And that craves wary walking. Crown him? — that; — 

And then, I grant, we put a sting in him, 

That at his will he may do danger with. 

The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins 

Remorse from power ; and, to speak truth of Caesar, 

I have not known when his affections swayed 

More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof, 

That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, 

Whereto the climber upward turns his face : 

But when he once attains the upmost round, 

He then unto the ladder turns his back, 

Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees 

By which he did ascend. So Caesar may. 

Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel 

Will bear no colour for the thing he is. 

Fashion it thus ; that what he is, augmented, 

Would run to these and these extremities : 

And therefore think him as a serpent's egg, 

Which, hatched, would, as his kind, grow mischievous ; 

And kill him in the shell. 

Re-enter Lucius. 

148. Luc. The taper burneth in your closet, Sir. 
Searching the window for a flint, I found 
This paper, thus sealed up ; and, I am sure, 
It did not lie there when I went to bed. 

[ Gives him, the letter. 

149. Bru. Get you to bed again ; it is not day. 
Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March ? 

Luc. I know not, Sir. 

Bru. Look in the calendar, and bring me word. 
Luc. I will, Sir. {Exit. 

153. Bru. The exhalations, whizzing in the air. 
Give so much light, that I may read by them. 

[ Opens the letter, and reads. 
"Brutus, thou sleep' st ; awake, and see thyself. 

Shall Rome, &c. Speak, strike, redress 1 " 

Brutus, thou sleep'st ; awake. 



jr6 Julius C-iEsar. [act ii. 

Such instigations have been often dropped 

Where I have took them up. 

Shall Rome, &c. Thus must I piece it out : — 

Shall Rome stand under one man's avpe? What! Rome? 

My ancestors did from the streets of Rome 

The Tarquin drive, when he was called a king. 

Speak, strike, redress I 

Am I entreated 

To speak, and strike ? O Rome ! I make thee promise, 

If the redress will follow, thou receivest 

Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus. 

Re-enter Lucius. 

154. Luc. Sir, March is wasted fourteen days. 

\^Knoch "Within. 

155. Bru. 'Tis good. Go to the gate ; somebody knocks. 

{Exit Lucius. 
Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar, 
I have not slept. 

Between the acting of a dreadful thing 
And the first motion, all the interim is 
Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream : 
The genius, and the mortal instruments, 
Are then in council ; and the state of a man, 
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then 
The nature of an insurrection. 

Re-enter Lucius. 

156. Luc. Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door. 
Who doth desire to see you. 

Bru. Is he alone ? 
158. Luc. No, Sir, there are moe with him. 
Bru. Do you know them .'' 

160. Luc. No, Sir ; their hats are plucked about their ears. 
And half their faces buried in their cloaks, 

That by no means I may discover them 
By any mark of favour. 

161. Bru. Let 'em enter. {Exit Lucius. j 
They are the faction. O Conspiracy ! 
Sham'st thou to show thy dangerous brow by night, 
When evils are most free I O, then, by day, 



\ 



w 



sc. I.] Julius Cmsar. 77 

Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough 

To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, Conspiracy; 

Hide it in smiles and affability: 

For, if thou path, thy native semblance on, 

Not Erebus itself were dim enough 

To hide thee from prevention. 

Enter Cassius, Casca, Decius, Cinna, Metellus Cim- 
BER, and Trebonius. 

162. Cas. I think we are too bold upon your rest : 
Good morrow, Brutus : do we trouble you ? 

Bru. I have been up this hour ; awake, all night. 
Know I these men that come along with you? 

Cas. Yes, every man of them ; and no man here 
But honors you ; and every one doth wish 
You had but that opinion of yourself 
Which every noble Roman bears of you. 
This is Trebonius. 

Bru. He is welcome hither. 

Cas. This, Decius Brutus. 

Bru. He is welcome too. 
168. Cas. This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus 
Cimber. 

Bru. They are all welcome. 
What watchful cares do interpose themselves 
Betwixt your eyes and night ? 

Cas. Shall I entreat a word? {^Tkey whisj>er, 

Dec. Here lies the east : doth not the day break here ? 

Casca. No. 

173. Cm. O, pardon, Sir, it doth ; and yon grey lines, 
That fret the clouds, are messengers of day. 

174. Casca. You shall confess that you are both deceived. 
Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises ; 

Which is a great way growing on the south. 
Weighing the youthful season of the year. 
Some two months hence, up higher toward the north 
He first presents his fire ; and the high east 
Stands, as the Capitol, directly here. 

175. Bru. Give me your hands all over, one by one. 

Cas. And let us swear our resolution. 
177. Bru. No, not an oath : if not the face of men, 



78 Julius C^sar. [act u. 

The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse, — 
If these be motives weak, break off betimes, 
And every man hence to his idle bed ; 
So let high-sighted tyranny range on. 
Till each man drop by lottery. But if these, 
As I am sure they do, bear fire enough 
To kindle cowards, and to steel with valour 
The melting spirits of women ; then, countrymen, 
What need we any spur, but our own cause, 
To prick us to redress? what other bond. 
Than secret Romans, that have spoke the word, 
And will not palter? and what other oath, 
Than honesty to honesty engaged 
That this shall be, or we will fall for it? 
Swear priests, and cowards, and men cautelous, 
Old feeble carrions, and such suffering souls 
That welcome wrongs ; unto bad causes swear 
Such creatures as men doubt : but do not stain 
The even virtue of our enterprise. 
Nor the insuppressive metal of our spirits. 
To think that or our cause or our performance 
Did need an oath ; when every drop of blood, 
That every Roman bears, and nobly bears, 
Is guilty of a sevei^al bastardy, 
If he do break the smallest particle 
Of any promise that hath passed from him. 
178. Cas. But what of Cicero? Shall we sound him? 
I think he will stand very strong with us. 

Casca. Let us not leave him out. 

Cin. No, by no means. 

181. Met. O, let us have him ; for his silver hairs 
Will purchase us a good opinion. 

And buy men's voices to commend our deeds : 
It shall be said, his judgment ruled our hands; 
Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear, 
But all be buried in his gravity. 

182. Bru, O, name him not; let us not break with him; 
For he will never follow anything 

That other men begin. 
Cas. Then leave him out. 
Casca. Indeed, he is not fit. 



sc. I.] Julius Cjesar. 79 

Dec. Shall no man else be touched but only Csesar? 
'186. Cas. Decius, well urged. — I think it is not meet, 
Mark Antony, so well beloved of Caesar, 
Should outlive Caesar. We shall find of him 
A shrewd contriver; and, you know, his means, 
If he improve them, may well stretch so far 
As to annoy us all : which to prevent, 
Let Antony and Caesar fall together. 

187. Bru. Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassias, 
To cut the head off, and then hack the limbs. 

Like wrath in death, and envy afterwards : 
For Antony is but a limb of Caesar. 
Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius. 
We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar; 
And in the spirit of men there is no blood : 
O, that we then could come by Caesar's spirit. 
And not dismember Caesar! But, alas, 
Caesar must bleed for it ! And, gentle friends. 
Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully ; 
Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods, 
Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds : 
And let our hearts, as subtle masters do. 
Stir up their servants to an act of rage, 
And after seem to chide 'em. This shall mark 
Our purpose necessary, and not envious : 
Which so appearing to the common eyes, 
We shall be called purgers, not murderers. 
And for Mark Antony, think not of him ; 
For he can do no more than Caesar's arm 
When Caesar's head is off. 

188. Cas. Yet I do fear him : 

For in the ingrafted love he bears to Caesar, 

189. Bru. Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him : 
If he loves Caesar, all that he can do 

Is to himself, — take thought, and die for Caesar: 
And that were much he should ; for he is given 
To sports, to wildness, and much company. 

190. Treb. There is no fear in him ; let him not die ; 
For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter. 

[ Clock strikes. 
Bru. Peace, count the clock. 



8o Julius C^sar. [act ii. 

192. Cas. The clock hath stricken three. 
Tred. 'Tis time to part. 

194. Cas. But it is doubtful yet 

Whether Caesar will come forth to-day or no : 
For he is superstitious grown of late ; 
Quite from the main opinion he held once 
Of fantasy, of dreams, and ceremonies. 
It may be, these apparent prodigies, 
The unaccustomed terror of this night, 
And the persuasion of his augurers, 
May hold him from the Capitol to-day. 

195. Dec. Never fear that. If he be so resolved, 
I can o'ersway him : for he loves to hear 
That unicorns may be betrayed with trees, 
And bears with glasses, elephants with holes. 
Lions with toils, and men with flatterers ; 
But, when I tell him he hates flatterers, 
He says he does ; being then most flattered. 
Let me work : 
For I can give his humour the true bent ; 
And I will bring him to the Capitol. 

Cas. Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him. 
197. Bru. By the eighth hour: is that the uttermost? 
Cm. Be that the uttermost, and fail not then. 

199. MeL Caius Ligarius doth bear Csesar hard, 
Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey ; 
I wonder none of you have thought of him. 

200. Bru. Now, good Metellus, go along by him : 
He loves me well, and I have given him reasons ; 
Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him. 

201. Cas. The morning comes upon us: we'll leave you, 

Brutus : — 
And, friends, disperse yourselves : but all remember 
What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans. 

202. Bru. Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily; 
Let not our looks put on our purposes : 

But bear it as our Roman actors do. 
With untired spirits, and formal constancy : 
" And so, good morrow to you every one. 

[^Eoeeunt all but Brutus. 
Boy 1 Lucius 1 — Fast asleep ? It is no matter ; 



- 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 8i 

Enjoy the heavy honey-dew of slumber : 
Tnou hast no figures, nor no fantasies, 
Which busy care draws in the brains of men ; 
Therefore thou sleep'st so sound. 

Enter Portia. 

Por. Brutus, my lord ! 

Bru. Portia, what mean you ? Wherefore rise you 
now.? 
It is not for your health, thus to commit 
Your weak condition to the raw-cold morning. 
205. Por. Nor for yours neither. You've ungently, Brutus, 
Stole from my bed : and yesternight, at supper, 
You suddenly arose, and walked about, 
Musing, and sighing, with your arms across : 
And, when I asked you what the matter was, 
You stared upon me with ungentle looks. 
I urged you further ; then you scratched your head, 
And too impatiently stamped with your foot : 
Yet I insisted, yet you answered not ; 
But, with an angry wafture of your hand, 
Gave sign for me to leave you. So I did ; 
Fearing to strengthen that impatience. 
Which seemed too much enkindled ; and, withal. 
Hoping it was but an effect of humour, 
Which sometime hath his hour with every man. 
It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep ; 
And, could it work so much upon your shape. 
As it hath much prevailed on your condition, 
I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord, 
Make me acquainted with your cause of grief. 

Bru. I am not well in health, and that is all. 

Por. Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health, 
He would embrace the means to come by it. 

Bru. Why, so I do. — Good Portia, go to bed. 
209. Por. Is Brutus sick .? and is it physical 
To walk unbraced, and suck up the humours 
Of the dank morning.'' What! is Brutus sick. 
And will he steal out of his wholesome bed. 
To dare the vile contagion of the night? 
And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air 

6 



83 Julius C-<esar. [act ii. 

To add unto his sickness ? No, my Brutus ; 
You have some sick offence within your mind, 
Which, by the right and virtue of my place, 
I ought to know of: and, upon my knees, 
I charm you, by my once commended beauty, 
By all your vows of love, and that great vow. 
Which did incorporate and make us one. 
That you unfold to me, yourself, your half, 
Why you are heavy; and what men to-night 
Have had resort to you : for here have been 
Some six or seven, who did hide their faces 
Even from darkness. 

Bru. Kneel not, gentle Portia. 
211. Por. I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus. 
Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, 
Is it excepted, I should know no secrets 
That appertain to you ? Am I yourself 
But, as it were, in sort, or limitation ; 
To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed, 
And talk to you sometimes ? Dwell I but in the suburbs 
Of your good pleasure .-' If it be no more, 
Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife. 

Bru. You are my true and honorable wife ; 
As dear to me as ai-e the ruddy drops 
That visit my sad heart. 

213. Por. If this were true, then should I know this secret. 
I grant, I am a woman ; but, withal, 

A woman that lord Brutus took to wife : 

I grant, I am a woman ; but, withal, 

A woman well reputed, Cato's daughter. 

Think you, I am no stronger than my sex, 

Being so fathered, and so husbanded ? 

Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em : 

I have made strong proof of my constancy, 

Giving myself a voluntary wound 

Here, in the thigh : can I bear that with patience, 

And not my husband's secrets.? 

214. Bru. O ye gods. 

Render me worthy of this noble wife ! [^Knocking -within. 
Hark, hark! one knocks. Portia, go in awhile; 
And by and by thy bosom shall partake 



sc. II.] Julius C-iESAR. 83 

The secrets of my heart. 

All my engagements I will construe to thee, 

All the characterj of my sad brows : — 

Leave me with haste. [^JSxt^ Portia. 

Etiter Lucius and Ligarius. 

Lucius, who's that, knocks.'' 

Luc. Here is a sick man that would speak with you. 

Bru. Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of. — 
Boy, stand aside. — Caius Ligarius ! how.? 

217. Lig- Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue. 

218. Bru. O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius, 
To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick ! 

Lig. I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand 
Any exploit worthy the name of honor. 

Bru. Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius, 
Had you a healthful ear to hear of it. 
221. Lig. By all the gods that Romans bow before, 
I here discard my sickness. Soul of Rome ! 
Brave son, derived from honorable loins I 
Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up 
My mortified spirit. Now bid me run. 
And I will strive with things impossible. 
Yea, get the better of them. What's to do? 

Brti. A piece of work that will make sick men whole. 

Lig. But are not some whole that we must make sick? 

224. Bru. That must we also. What it is, my Caius, 
I shall unfold to thee, as we are going 

To whom it must be done. 

225. Lig. Set on your foot ; 

And, with a heart new-fired, I follow you, 
To do I know not what : but it sufficeth, 
That Brutus leads me on. 

Bru. Follow me then. \^Exeunt. 

SCENE II. — The same. A Room in Cesar's Palace. 

Thunder and lightning. Enter C^sar in his night-gown. 

227. Cas. Nor heaven, nor earth, have been at peace to- 
night : 
Thrice hath Calphurnia in her sleep cried out. 
Help, ho ! they murder Ccesar ! — Who's within ? 



84 Julius C-^iesar. [act ii. 

Enter a Servant. 
Serv. Mj lord ? 
229. CcBs. Go bid the priests do present sacrifice, 
And bring me their opinions of success. 

Serv. I will, mj lord. ' {^Exit. 

Enter Calphurnia. 

Cal. What mean jou, Csesar? Think you to walk 
forth ? 
You shall not stir out of your house to-day. 

Cces. Csesar shall forth. The things that threatened 
me 
Ne'er looked but on my back ; when they shall see 
The face of Csesar, they are vanished. 

233. Cal. Csesar, I never stood on ceremonies. 
Yet now they fright me. There is one within, 
Besides the things that we have heard and seen, 
Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch. 
A lioness hath whelped in the streets ; 

And graves have yawned, and yielded up their dead • 

Fierce fiery warriors fight upon the clouds. 

In ranks and squadrons, and right form of war, 

Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol : 

The noise of battle hurtled in the air. 

Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan; 

And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets. 

O Csesar ! these things are beyond all use, 

And I do fear them. 

234. Cess. What can be avoided. 

Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods? 
Yet Csesar shall go forth ; for these predictions 
Are to the world in general, as to Caesar. 

Cal. When beggars die, there are no comets seen ; 
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. 
236. Cces. Cowards die many times before their deaths ; 
The valiant never taste of death but once. 
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard. 
It seems to me most strange that men should fearj 
Seeing that death, a necessary end, 
Will come, when it will come. 






sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 85 

He-enter a Servant. 

What say the augurers ? 

Serv. They would not have you to stir forth to-day. 
Plucking the entrails of an offering forth, 
They could not find a heart within the beast. 

238. Cces. The gods do this in shame of cowardice : 
Caesar should be a beast without a heart, 

If he should stay at home to-day for fear. 
No, Caesar shall not. Danger knows full well 
That Caesar is more dangerous than he. 
We are two lions littered in one day, 
And I the elder and more terrible ; 
And Caesar shall go forth. 

239. Cal. Alas, my lord, 

Your wisdom is consumed in confidence. 
Do not go forth to-day. Call it my fear, 
That keeps you in the house, and not your own. 
We'll send Mark Antony to the senate-house; 
And he shall say, you are not well to-day : 
Let me, upon my knee, prevail in this. 

240. CcBS. Mark Antony shall say, I am not well; 
And, for thy humour, I will stay at home. 

Enter Decius. 

Here's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so. 

241. Dec. Caesar, all hail ! Good morrow, worthy Caesar : 
I come to fetch you to the senate-house. 

242. Cces. And you are come in very happy time 
To bear my greeting to the senators, 

And tell them that I will not come to-day. 

Cannot, is false ; and that I dare not, falser : 

I will not come to-day. Tell them so, Decius. 
Cal. Say, he is sick. 
24^^.. Cces. Shall Cjesar send a lie .'" 

Have I in conquest stretched mine arm so far, 

To be afeard to tell grey-beards the truth ? 

Decius, go tell them Caesar will not come. 
Dec. Most mighty C^sar, let me know some cause, 

Lest I be laughed at when I tell them so. 
245. Cces. The cause is in my will ; I will not come : 



86 Julius C^sar. [act ii. 

That is enough to satisfy the senate. 
But, for your private satisfaction, 
Because I love you, I will let you know. 
Calphurnia here, my wife, stays me at home : 
She dreamt to-night she saw my statue, 
Which, like a fountain with an hundred spouts, 
Did run pure blood ; and many lusty Romans 
Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it. 
And these does she apply for warnings and portents 
Of evils imminent; and on her knee 
Hath begged that I will stay at home to-day. 
246. Dec. This dream is all amiss interpreted : 
It was a vision fair and fortunate. 
Your statue spouting blood in many pipes, 
In which so many smiling Romans bathed, 
Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck 
Reviving blood ; and that great men shall press 
For tinctures, stains, relics, and cognizance. 
This by Calphurnia's dream is signified. 

C(£s. And this way have you well expounded it. 

248. Dec. I have, when you have heard what I can say : 
And know it now. The senate have concluded 

To give this day a crown to mighty Caesar, 
If you shall send them word you will not come. 
Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock 
Apt to be rendered, for some one to say, 
Break up the senate till another time. 
When Ccesar's -wife shall meet 'with better dreams. 
If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper, 
LOf Ccesar is afraid ? 

Pardon me, Caesar ; for my dear, dear love 
To your proceeding bids me tell you this; 
And reason to my love is liable. 

249. Cces. How foolish do your fears seem now, Cal- 

phurnia! 
I«am ashamed I did yield to them. — 
Give me my robe, for I will go : — 

Enter Publics, Brutus, Ligarius, Metellus, Casca, 
Trebonius, and CiNNA. 
And look where Puhlius is come to fetch me. 
Pub. Good morrow, Caesar. 






sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 87 

351. CcEs. Welcome, Publius. — 

What, Brutus) are you stirred so early too? — 
Good morrow, Casca. — Caius Ligarius, 
Caesar was ne'er so much your enemy, 
As that same ague which hath made you lean. — 
What is't o'clock? 

252. Bru. C^sar, 'tis strucken eight. 

253. CcBS. I thank you for your pains and courtesy. 

Enter Antony. 

See ! Antony, that revels long o' nights, 
Is, notwithstanding, up : — 
Good morrow, Antony. 
Ant. So to most noble Caesar. 
255. CcBS. Bid them prepare within : — 
I am to blame to be thus waited for. — 
Now, Cinna. — Now, Metellus. — What, Trebonins I 
I have an hour's talk in store for you. 
Remember that you call on me to-day : 
Be near me, that I may remember you. 

Treb. Caesar, I will : — and so near will I be. 
That your best friends shall wish I had been further. 

\^Astde, 
Cces. Good friends, go in, and taste some wine with me ; 
And we, like friends, will straightway go together. 
258 Bru. That every like is not the same, O Caesar, 
The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon ! 

lAside. Exeunt. 



SCENE III. — Tke same. A Street near the Capitol. 

Enter Artemidorus, reading a Paper. 

259. Art. Caesar, beware 0/ Brutus ; take heed of Cassius', 
come not near Casca; have an eye to Cinna; trust not 
Trebonius; war^ we// Metellus Cimber; Decius Brutus 
loves thee not; thou hast wronged Caius Ligarius. There 
is but one mind in all these men, and it is bent against 
Csesar. If thou beest not immortal, look about you : se- 
curity gives way to conspiracy. The mighty gods defend 
thee ! Thy lover, Artemidorus. 



88 Julius C^sar. [act ii. 

Here will I stand, till Caesar pass along, 

And as a suitor will I give him this. . 

Mj heart laments, that virtue cannot live 

Out of the teeth of emulation. 

If thou read this, O Csesar, thou mayest live; 

If not, the fates with traitors do contrive. [_Exti. 



SCENE IV. — The same. Another fart of the same Street, 
before the House of Brutus. 

Enter Portia and Lucius. 

260. Por. I pr'ythee, boy, run to the senate-house ; 

Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone. 

Why dost thou stay ? 
Luc. To know my errand, madam. 1 

262. Por. I would have had thee there, and here again, 1 

Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there. — 

constancy, be strong upon my side ! 

Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue I 

1 have a man's mind, but a woman's might. 
How hard it is for women to keep counsel ! — 
Art thou here yet ? 

Luc. Madam, what should I do.'' 
Run to the Capitol, and nothing else.-' 
And so return to j'ou, and nothing else.'' 

Por. Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well. 
For he went sickly forth : and take good note 
What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him. 
Hark, boy! what noise is that.-* 

Luc. I hear none, madam. 

266. Por. Pr'ythee, listen well ; 

I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray, 
And the wind brings it from the Capitol. 

267. Luc. Sooth, madam, I hear nothing. 

Enter The Soothsayer. 

268. Por. Come hither, fellow. Which way hast thou been? 
Sooth. At mine own house, good lady. 

270. Por. What is't o'clock.'' 

Sooth. About the ninth hour, lady. 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 89 

Por. Is Ceesar yet gone to the Capitol ? 

Sooth. Madam, not yet : I go to take my stand, 
To see him pass on to the Capitol. 

Por. Thou hast some suit to CiEsar, hast thou not? 

Sooth. That I have, lady : if it -w-ill please Csesar 
To be so good to Ccesar as to hear me, 
I shall beseech him to befriend himself. 

276. Por. Why, knowest thou any harm's intended towards 

him.'' 

277. Sooth. None that I know will be, much that I fear may 

chance. 
Good morrow to you. 

Here the street is narrow : 
The throng that follows Caesar at the heels, 
Of senators, of prtetors, common suitors. 
Will crowd a feeble man almost to death : 
I'll get me to a place more void, and there 
Speak to great Caesar as he comes along. 

278. Por. I must go in. — Ay me ! how weak a thing 
The heart of woman is ! 

O Brutus ! 
The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise ! — 
Sure, the boy heard me : — Brutus hath a suit, 
That Caesar will not grant. — O, I grow faint : — 
Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord; 
Say, I am merry ; come to me again. 
And bring me word what he doth say to thee. {ExeunU 



ACT m. 

SCENE /.— The same. The Cafitol ; the Senate sitting. 

A Crowd of People in the Street leading to the Ca-pitol ; 
ainong them Artemidorus and the Soothsayer. 
Flourish. Enter C^sar, Brutus, Cassius, Casca, 
Decius, Metellus, Trebonius, Cinna, Antony, 
Lepidus, Popilius, Publius, and others. 

Cces. The ides of March are come. 



9© Julius C^sar. [act hi. 

SootJt. Ay, Caesar ; but not gone. 
Art. Hail, Caesar, read this schedule. 
282. Dec. Trebonius doth desire you to o'er-read, 
At your best leisure, this his humble suit. 

Art. O, Csesar, read mine first; for mine's a suit 
That touches Czesar nearer. Read it, great Caesar. 
284. Cczs. That touches us.? Ourself shall be last served. 
Art. Delay not, Csesar ; read it instantly. 
CcBs. What, is the fellow mad } 

Pub. Sirrah, give place. i 

288. Cas. What, urge you your petitions in the street? 
Come to the Capitol. 

C^SAR enters the Capitol, the rest follo'tving. 
All the Senators rise. 
Pop. I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive. 
Cas. What enterprise, Popilius } 
291. Pop. Fare you well. [Advances to C-ESAR.* 

Brfi. What said Popilius Lena .'' 
Cas. He wished to-day our enterprise might thrive 
I fear our purpose is discovered. 

294. Bru. Look, how he makes to Csesar : mark him. 

295. Cas. Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention. — 
Brutus, what shall be done i If this be known, 
Cassius on Caesar never shall turn back, 
For I will slay myself. 

296. Bru. Cassius, be constant : 
Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes; 
For, look, he smiles, and Csesar doth not change. 

297. Cas. Trebonius knows his time ; for, look you, Brutu8| 
He draws Mark Antony out of the way. 

\_Exeunt Antony and Trebonius. C^sar 
and the Senators take their seats. 
Dec. Where is Metellus Cimber.? Let him go, 
And presently prefer his suit to Csesar. 

299. Bru. He is addressed : press near and second him. 

300. Cin. Casca, you ai'e the first that rears your hand. 

301. Casca. Are we all ready.'' 
C(zs. What is now amiss, 

That Csesar, and his senate, must redress? 
303. Met. Most high, most mighty, and most puissant 
Csesar, 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 91 

Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat 

An humble heart : — \_Kneelings 

304. Cces. I must prevent thee, Cimber. 
These crouchings, and these lowly courtesies, 
Might fire the blood of ordinary men, 

And turn pre-ordinance and first decree 

Into the law of children. Be not fond, 

To think that Ciesar bears such rebel blood. 

That will be thawed from the true quality 

With that which melteth fools ; I mean sweet words, 

Low-crouched curtsies, and base spaniel fawning. 

Thy brother by decree is banished ; 

If thou dost bend, and pray, and fawn for him, 

I spurn thee like a cur out of my way. 

Know, Caesar doth not wrong; nor without cause 

Will he be satisfied. 

305. Met. Is there no voice moi-e worthy than my own, 
To sound more sweetly in great Ctesar's ear 

For the repealing of my banished brother? 

306. Bru. I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Caesar; 
Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may 

Have an immediate freedom of repeal. 
Cces. What, Brutus ! 

308. Cas. Pardon, Caesar; Caesar, pardon : 
As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall. 

To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber. 

309. Cces. I could be well moved, if I were as you ; 
If I could pray to move, prayers would move me : 
But I am constant as the northern star. 

Of whose true-fixed and resting quality 
There is no fellow in the firmament. 
The skies are painted with unnumbered sparks ; 
They are all fire, and every one doth shine; 
But there's but one in all doth hold his place : 
So, in the world ; 'tis furnished well with men, 
And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive; 
Yet, in the number, I do know but one 
That unassailable holds on his rank, 
Unshaked of motion : and, that I am he, 
Let me a little show it, even in this ; 
- That I was constant Cimber should be banished, 
And constant do remain to keep him so. 



92 



Julius C^sar. [act iiij 



Cin. O Caesar, 

311. CcBs. Hence ! wilt thou lift up Olympus? 
Dec. Great Caesar, 

313. Cces. Doth not Brutus bootless kneel? 

314. Casca. Speak, hands, for me. 

[Casca stabs C^sar i?t the neck. C^SAR catch 
hold of his arm. He is then stabbed by severa 
other Conspirators, and at last byMARCVS Brutus 

315. C(ss. Et tu, Brute.— Then, Ml, Cxsav. 

[Dies. The Senators and People retire in confusion 
Cin. Liberty ! Freedom ! Tyranny is dead ! — 

Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets. 
Cas. Some to the common pulpits, and cry out, 

Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement ! 
318. Bru. People, and senators ! be not aflfrighted ; 

Fly not; stand still : — ambition's debt is paid. 
Casca. Go to the pulpit, Brutus. 
Dec. And Cassius too. ^M 

Bru. Where's Publius ? '^^ 

Cin. Here, quite confounded with this mutiny. 
Met. Stand fast together, lest some friend of Cesar's 

Should chance 

324. Bru. Talk not of standing. — Publius, good cheer ; 

There is no harm intended to your person. 

Nor to no Roman else : so tell them, Publius. 

Cas. And leave us, Publius ; lest that the people, 

Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief. 

326. Bru. Do so ; — and let no man abide this deed, 
. But we the doers. 

Re-enter Trebonius. 

327. Cas. Where's Antony ? 

328. Tre. Fled to his house amazed. 

Men, wives, and children stare, cry out, and run, 
As it were doomsday. 

Bru. Fates ! we will know your pleasures : 
That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time. 
And drawing days out, that men stand upon. 
330. Casca. Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life 
Cuts off so many years of fearing death. 

Bru. Grant that, and then is death a benefit : 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 93 

So are we Caesar's friends, that have abridged 
His time of fearing death. — Stoop, Romans, stoop, 
And let us bathe our hands in Caesar's blood 
Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords : 
Then walk we forth, even to the market-place ; 
And, waving our. red weapons o'er our heads. 
Let's all cry, Peace ! Freedom ! and Liberty ! 

332. Cas. Stoop, then, and wash. — How many ages hence, 
Shall this our lofty scene be acted over 

In states unborn, and accents yet unknown ! 

333. Bru. How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport, 
That now on Pompey's basis lies along, 

No worthier than the dust! 

334. Cas. So oft as that shall be. 

So often shall the knot of us be called 
The men that gave their country liberty. 
Dec. What, shall we forth .'' 
336. Cas. Ay, every man away : 

Brutus shall lead ; and we will grace his heels 
With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome. 

Enter a Servant. 

Bru. Soft, who comes here.'' A friend of Antony's. 

338. Serv. Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel; 
Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down : 

And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say. 
Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest; 
Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving: 
Say, I love Brutus, and I honor him ; 
Say, I feared Caesar, honored him, and loved him. 
If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony 
May safely come to him, and be resolved 
How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death, 
Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead 
So well as Brutus living ; but will follow 
The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus, 
Thorough the hazards of this untrod state, 
With all true faith. So says my master Antony. 

339. Bru. Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman ; 
I never thought him worse. 

Tell him, so please him come unto this place, 



94 Julius C^sar. [act hi. 

He shall be satisfied ; and, by my honor, 
Depart untouched. 

Serv. I'll fetch him presently. \^Exit Serv. 

341. Bru. I know that we shall have him well to friend. 

342. Cas. I wish we may : but yet have I a mind 
That fears him much ; and my misgiving still 
Falls shrewdly to the purpose. 

Re-enter Antony. 

343. Bru. But here comes Antony. — Welcome, Mark An- 

tony. 

344. Ant. O mighty Czesar ! Dost thou lie so low? 
Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, 
Shrunk to this little measure.'' Fare thee well. — 
I know not, gentlemen, what you intend. 
Who else must be let blood, who else is rank: 
If I myself, there is no hour so fit 
As Caesar's death's hour; nor no instrument 
Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich 
With the most noble blood of all this world. 
I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard. 
Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smokCi 
Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years, 
I shall not find myself so apt to die : 
No place will please me so, no mean of death, 
As here, by Caesar and by you, cut off". 
The choice and master spirits of this age. 

345. Bru. O Antony! beg not your death of us. 
Though now we must appear bloody and cruel, 
As, by our hands, and this our present act, 
You see we do, yet see you but our hands. 
And this the bleeding business they have done : 
Our hearts you see not, they are pitiful ; 
And pity to the general wrong of Rome 
(As fire drives out fire, so pity, pity). 
Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part. 
To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony 
Our arms, in strength of welcome, and our hearts, 
Of brothers' temper, do receive you in. 
With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence. 

Cas. Your voice shall be as strong as any man's. 
In the disposing of new dignities. 



sc. I.] Julius C«sar. 95 

347. Bru. Only be patient, till we have appeased 
The multitude, beside themselves with fear, 
And then we will deliver you the cause 

Why I, that did love Csesar when I struck him, 
Have thus proceeded. 

348. Ant. I doubt not of your wisdom. 

Let each man render me his bloody hand : 

First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you; — 

Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand ; — 

Now, Decius Brutus, yours ; — now yours, Metellus ; — 

Yours, Cinna; — and, my valiant Casca, yours; — 

Though last, not least in love, yours, good Trebonius. 

Gentlemen all, — alas ! what shall I say.'' 

My credit now stands on such slippery ground, 

That one of two bad ways you must conceit me, 

Either a coward or a flatterer. — 

That I did love thee, Caesar, O, 'tis true : 

If then thy spirit look upon us now, 

Shall it not grieve thee, dearer than thy death, 

To see thy Antony making his peace. 

Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes, 

Most noble ! in the presence of thy corse ? 

Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds. 

Weeping as fast as they streain forth thy blood, 

It would become me better, than to close 

In terms of friendship with thine enemies. 

Pardon me, Julius ! — Here wast thou bayed, brave hart; 

Here didst thou fall ; and here thy hunters stand, 

Signed in thy spoil, and crimsoned in thy death. 

O world ! thou wast the forest to this hart; 

And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee. — 

How like a deer, strucken by many princes. 

Dost thou here lie ! 

Cas. Mark Antony, 

350. Atit. Pardon me, Caius Cassius : 
The enemies of Caesar shall say this ; 
Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty. 

351. Cas. I blame you not for praising Caesar so; 
But what compact mean you to have with us? 
Will you be pricked in number of our friends ; 
Or shall we on, and not depend on you? 



96 Julius C^sar. [act hi. 

352. Atii. Therefore I took your hands; but was, indeed, 
Swayed from the point, by looking down on Czesar. 
Friends am I with you all, and love you all 

Upon this hope, that you shall give me rea: 
Why, and wherein, Csesar was dangerous. 

353. JBru. Or else were this a savage spectacl* 
Our reasons are so full of good regard, 
That, were you, Antony, the son of Caesar, 
You should be satisfied. 

354. Ani. That's all I seek : 
And am moreover suitor that I may 
Produce his body to the market-place; 
And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend, 
Speak in the order of his funeral. 

Bru. You shall, Mark Antony. 

356. Cas. Brutus, a word with you. — 

You know not what you do. Do not consent 

That Antony speak in his funeral. 

Know you how much the people may be moved 

By that which he will utter? [^Aside 

357. Bru. By your pardon ; — 

I will myself into the pulpit first, 
And show the reason of our Caesar's death: 
What Antony shall speak, I will protest 
He speaks by leave and by permission ; 
And that we are contented Caesar shall 
Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies. 
It shall advantage more than do us wrong. 

358. Cas. I know not what may fall ; I like it not. 

359. Bru. Mark Antony, here, take you Caesar's body. 
You shall not in your funeral speech blame us. 
But speak all good you can devise of Caesar; 

And say, you do't by our permission ; 
Else shall you not have any hand at all 
About his funeral. And you shall speak 
In the same pulpit whereto I am going, 
After my speech is ended. 

AnL Be it so ; 
I do desire no more. 
361. Bru. Prepare the body, then, and follow us. 

\_Exeunt all but Antony. 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 97 

362. A7it. O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, 
That I am meek and gentle with these butchers ! 
Thou art the ruins of the noblest man 
That ever lived in the tide of times. 
\i to the hand that shed this costly blood ! 
Over ttij wounds now do I prophesy, — 
Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips 
To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue : — 
A curse shall light upon the loins of men; 
Domestic fury, and fierce civil strife, 
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy : 
Blood and destruction shall be so in use, 
And dreadful objects so familiar, 
That mothers shall but smile when they behold 
Their infants quartered with the hands of war, 
All pity choked with custom of fell deeds ; 
And Caesar's spirit ranging for revenge, 
With Ate by his side, come hot from hell, 
Shall in these confines, with a monarch's voice, 
Cry Havoc! and let slip the dogs of war; 
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth 
With carrion men, groaning for burial. 

Enter a Servant. 

You serve Octavius Csesar, do you not? 
Serv. I do, Mark Antony. 
Ant. Caesar did write for him to come to Rome. 

365. Serv. He did receive his letters, and is coming : 
And bid me say to you by word of mouth, — 

O Caesar ! \_Seeing the Body. 

366. A7it. Thy heart is big ; get thee apart and weep. 
Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes, 
Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, 
Began to water. Is thy master coming.'' 

Serv. He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome. 
368. Ant. Post back with speed, and tell him what hath 
chanced. 
Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome, 
No Rome of safety for Octavius yet; 
Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet, stay a while ; 
Thou shalt not back, till I have borne this corse 

7 



98 Julius C^sar. [act 

Into the market-place : there shall I try, 

In my oration, how the people take 

The cruel issue of these bloody men ; 

According to the which thou shalt discourse 

To young Octavius of the state of things. 

Lend me your hand. \_Exeunt with Cesar's Body, 



SCENE 11. — The same. The Forum. 
Enter Brutus and Cassius, and a throng- of CiTlZESS 

369. Cit. We will be satisfied ; let us be satisfied. 

370. Bru. Then follow me, and give me audience, friends.— 
Cassius, go you into the other street, 
And part the numbers. — 

Those that will hear me speak, let 'em stay here ; 
Those that will follow Cassius, go with him ; 
And public reasons shall be rendered 
Of Caesar's death. 

I Cit. I will hear Brutus speak. 

372. 2 Cit. I will hear Cassius ; and compare their reasons, 
When severally we hear them rendered. 

\^Exit Cassius, -ivith some of the CITIZENS. 
Brutus goes into the Rostrum. 

373. 3 Cit. The noble Brutus is ascended. Silence ! 

374. Bru. Be patient till the last. 

Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause ;( 
and be silent, that you may hear : believe me for mineJ 
honor ; and have respect to mine honor, that you may 
believe : censure me in your wisdom ; and awake your 
senses, that you may the better judge. If there be 
any in this assembly, any dear friend of CcEsar's, to 
him I say, that Brutus' love to Caesar was no less 
than his. If, then, that friend demand, why Brutus 
rose against Csesar, this is my answer; — Not that I 
loved Csesar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you 
rather Caesar were living, and die all slaves, than that 
Csesar were dead, to live all freemen .'' As Csesar loved 
. me, I weep for him ; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; 
as he was valiant, I honor him : but, as he was ambi- 
tious, I slew him. There is tears for his love; joy for 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 99 

his fortune; honor for his valour; and death for his 
ambition. Who is here so base, that would be a bond- 
man .-* If any, speak ; for him have I offended. Who 
is here so rude, that would not be a Roman? If 
any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so 
vile, that will not love his country.? If any, speak; for 
him have I offended. I pause for a reply. 

375. Cit. None, Brutus, none. {^Several speaking at once. 

376. Bru. Then none have I offended. I have done no 
more to Caesar than you shall do to Brutus. The ques- 
tion of his death is enrolled in the Capitol : his glory 
not extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offences 
enforced, for which he suffered death. 

Enter Antony and others, ■with Cesar's Body. 

Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony : who, 
though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the 
benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth ; as 
which of you shall not.? With this I depart; that, as I 
slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the 
same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country 
to need my death. 

Cit. Live, Brutus, live ! live ! 

1 Cit. Bring him with triumph home unto his house. 

2 Cit. Give him a statue with his ancestors. 

3 Cit. Let him be Caesar. 
381. 4 Cit. Ceesar's better parts 

Shall now be crowned in Brutus. 

1 Cit. We'll bring him to his house with shouts and 

clamours. 
Bru. My countrymen, 

2 Cit. Peace ; silence ! Brutus speaks. 
I Cit. Peace, ho ! 

;386. Bru. Good countrymen, let me depart alone, 
And, for my sake, stay here with Antony : 
Do grace to Caesar's corpse, and grace his speech 

, Tending to Caesar's glories ; which Mark Antony, 

I By our permission, is allowed to make. 
I do entreat you, not a man depart, 

Save I alone, till Antony have spoke. \Exit. 

I Cit. Stay, ho ! and let us hear Mark Antony. 



icx) Julius C^sar. [act hi, 

3 Cit. Let him go up into the public chair ; 
We'll hear him. — Noble Antony, go up. 

389. Atit. For Brutus' sake, I am beholden to you. 

4 Cit. What does he say of Brutus .-' 

3 Cit. He says, for Brutus' sake, 
He finds himself beholden to us all. 

4 Cit. 'Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here. 

1 Cit. This Caesar was a tyrant. 
394. 3 Cit. Nay, that's certain : 

We are blest that Rome is rid of him. 

2 Cit. Peace, let us hear what Antony can say. 

Ant. You gentle Romans, 

Cit. Peace, ho ! let us hear him. 

398. Ant. Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your 
ears; 
I come to bury Csesar, not to praise him. 
The evil that men do lives after them ; 
The good is oft interred with their bones : 
So let it be with Csesar. The noble Brutus 
Hath told you, Caesar was ambitious : 
If it were so, it was a grievous fault ; 
And grievously hath Cassar answered it. 
Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest 
(For Brutus is an honorable man ; 
So are they all, all honorable men), 
Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral. 
He was my friend, faithful and just to me : 
But Brutus says, he was ambitious ; 
And Brutus is an honorable man. 
He hath brought many captives home to Rome, 
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill : 
Did this in Caesar seem ambitious? J 

When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept : j 

Ambition should be made of sterner stuff. J 

Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious ; 
And Brutus is an honorable man. 
You all did see, that on the Lupercal 
I thrice presented him a kingly crown, 
Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition? 
Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious; 
And, sure, he is an honorable man. 






sc. II.] Julius C^sar. ioi 

I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, 

But here I am to speak what I do know. 

You all did love him once, not without cause; 

What cause withholds you, then, to mourn for him? 

judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, 

And men have lost their reason ! — Bear with me ; 

My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, 

And I must pause till it come back to me. 

I Cit. Methinks, there is much reason in his sayings 
3 Cit. If thou consider rightly of the matter, 

Caesar has had great wrong. 
3 Cit. Has he not, masters.^ 

1 fear, there will a worse come in his place. 

402. 4 Cit. Marked ye his words ? He would not take the 

crown ; 
Therefore, 'tis certain he was not ambitious. 

403. I Cit. If it be found so, some will dear abide it. 

1 Cit. Poor soul! his eyes are red as fire with weeping. 

3 Cit. There's not a nobler man in Rome than Antony. 

4 Cit. Now mark him, he begins again to speak. 
407. Ant. But yesterday the word of Caesar might 

Have stood against the world : now lies he there, 
And none so poor to do him reverence. 

masters ! if I were disposed to stir 
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, 

1 should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong, 
Who, you all know, are honorable men : 

I will not do them wrong; I rather choose 
To wrong the dead, to wrong myself, and you, 
Than I will wrong such honorable men. 
But here's a parchment, with the seal of Caesar; 
I found it in his closet; 'tis his will : 
Let but the commons hear this testament 
(Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read), 
And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds, 
And dip their napkins in his sacred blood; 
Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, 
And, dying, mention it within their wills, 
Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy. 
Unto their issue. 
4 Cit. We'll hear the will. Read it, Mark Antony. 



I02 Julius C^sar. [act hi. 

at. The will, the will ! we will hear Caesar's will. 

Ant. Have patience, gentle friends ; I must not read it ; 
It is not meet you know how Caesar loved j'ou. 
You are not wood, you. are not stones, but men ; 
And, being men, hearing the will of Caesar, 
It will inflame you, it will make you mad. 
'Tis good 3'ou know not that you are his heirs ; 
For if you should, O, what would come of it! 

411. 4 Cit. Read the will; we will hear it, Antony; you 
shall read us the will ; Caesar's will ! 

412. Ant. Will you be patient? Will you stay a while? 
I have o'ershot myself, to tell you of it. 

I fear I wrong the honorable men. 

Whose daggers have stabbed Caesar : I do fear it. 

4 Cit. They were traitors ! Honorable men ! 

Cit. The will ! the testament ! 

2 Cit. They were villains, murderers ! The will I 
Read the will ! 

A7it. You will compel me, then, to read the will? 
Then make a ring about the corpse of Caesar, 
And let me show you him that made the will. 
Shall I descend? And will you give me leave? 
Cit. Come down. 
418. 2 Cit. Descend. \^He comes doivn from the fulptt, 

3 Cit. You shall have leave. 

4 Cit. A ring: stand round. 

421. I Cit. Stand from the hearse, stand from the body. 
2 Cit. Room for Antony ! — most noble Antony ! 
Ant. Nay, press not so upon me ; stand far off. 
Cit. Stand back ! room ! bear back ! 
425. A7tt. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. 

You all do know this mantle : I remember 

The first time ever Caesar put it on ; 

'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent, 

That day he overcame the Nervii. 

Look ! in this place, ran Cassius' dagger through : 

See what a rent the envious Casca made : 

Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabbed; 

And, as he plucked his cursed steel away, 

Mark how the blood of Caesar followed it; 

As rushing out of doors, to be resolved 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 103 

* 

If Brutus so unkindly knocked, or no ; 

For Brutus, as you know, was Cresar's angel : 

Judge, O you gods, how dearly Cresar loved him! 

This was the most unkindest cut of all : 

For, when the noble Caesar saw him stab, 

Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms, 

Quite vanquished him : then burst his mighty heart; 

And, in his mantle muffling up his face, 

Even at the base of Pompey's statue. 

Which all the while ran blood, great Ciesar fell. 

O, what a fall was there, my countrymen ! 

Then I, and you, and all of us fell down. 

Whilst bloody treason flourished over us. 

O, now you weep ; and, I perceive, you feel 

The dint of pity : these are gracious drops. 

Kind souls, what ! weep you, when you but behold 

Our Ctesar's vesture wounded? Look you here, 

Here is himself, marred, as you see, with traitors. 

1 Cit. O piteous spectacle 1 

2 Cit. O noble Cresar ! 

3 Cit. O woeful day ! 

4 Cit. O traitors, villains ! 

1 Cit. O most bloody sight ! 

2 Cit. We will be revenged ; revenge! about, — seek, — 
burn, — fire, — kill, — slay ! — let not a traitor live. 

433. Ant. Stay, countrymen. 

1 Cit. Peace there ! — hear the noble Antony. 

2 Cit. We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we'll die with 
him. 

435. A7it. Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up 
To such a sudden flood of mutiny. 
They that have done this deed are honorable : 
What private griefs they have, alas ! I know not, 
That made them do it; they are wise and honorable, 
And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you. 
I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts : 
I am no orator, as Brutus is ; 
But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man. 
That love my friend; and that they know full well 
That gave me public leave to speak of him. 
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, 



I04 Julius C-«sar. [act hi. 

Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, 

To stir men's blood : I only speak right on ; 

I tell you that which you yourselves do know; 

Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor, poor dumb 

mouths, 
And bid them speak for me : but, were I Brutus, 
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony 
Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue 
In every wound of Csesar, that should move 
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny. 
Cit. We'll mutiny. 

1 Cit. We'll burn the house of Brutus. 
3 Cit. Away, then ! come, seek the conspirators. 
Ant. Yet hear me, counti-ymen ; yet hear me speak 
Cit. Peace, ho ! Hear Antony, most noble Antony. 
Ant. Why, friends, you go to do you know not what. 

Wherein hath Caesar thus deserved your loves? 
Alas, 3'ou know not : — I must tell you, then. — 
You have forgot the will I told you of. 

Cit. Most true; — the will; — let's stay, and hear the 
will. 
443. A7it. Here is the will, and under Caesar's seal. 
To every Roman citizen he gives. 
To every several man, seventy- five drachmas. 

2 Cit. Most noble Caesar! — we'll revenge his death. 

3 Cit. O royal Caesar ! 

Ant. Hear me with patience. 
Cit. Peace, ho ! 

448. Ant. Moreover, he hath left you all his walks, 
His private arbours, and new-planted orchards, 
On this side Tiber ; he hath left them you, 
And to your heirs forever ; common pleasures, 
To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves. 

Here was a Caesar: when comes such another? 

449. I Cit. Never, never ! — Come, away, away I 
We'll burn his body in the holy place, 

And with the brands fire the traitors' houses. 
Take up the body. 

2 Cit. Go, fetch fire. 

3 Cit. Pluck down benches. 

4 Cit. Pluck down forms, windows, anything. 

{^Exeunt Citizens, -with the body. 



sc. HI.] Julius C^sar. 105 

453. Ant. Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot, 
Take thou what course thou wilt ! — How now, fellow? 

Enter a Servant. 
Serv. Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome. 
Ant. Where is he? 

Serv. He and Lepidus are at Caesar's house. 
457. Ant. And thither will I straight to visit him. 
He comes upon a wish. Fortune is merry, 
And in this mood will give us anything. 
45S. Serv. I heard them say, Brutus and Cassius 

Are rid like madmen through the gates of Rome. 
459. Ant. Belike they had some notice of the people, 

How I had moved them. Bring me to Octavius. \Exeunt, 



SCENE III. — The same. A Street. 

Enter CiNNA the Poet. 

460. Cin. I dreamt to-night, that I did feast with Caesar, 
And things unlikely charge my fantasy. 
I have no will to wander forth of doors, 
Yet something leads me forth. 

Enter Citizens. 

1 Cit. What is your name .'' 

2 Cit. Whither are you going? 

3 Cit. Where do you dwell ? 

4 Cit. Are you a married man, or a bachelor? 
2 Cit. Answer every man directly. 

I Cit. Ay, and briefly. 
4 Cit. Ay, and wisely. 

468. 3 Cit. Ay, and truly, you were best. 

469. Cin. What is my name? Whither am I going? 
Where do I dwell? Am I a married man, or a bachelor? 
Then to answer every man directly and briefly, wisely 
and truly. Wisely, I say, I am a bachelor. 

470. Cit. That's as much as to say, they are fools that 
marry: — you'll bear me a bang for that, I fear. Pi-o- 
ceed ; directly. 

Cin, Directly, I am going to Caesar's funeral. 



io6 Julius C^sar. [act iv. 

1 Ctt. As a friend, or an enemy? 
Cin. As a friend. 

2 Ctt. That matter is answered directly. 
4 Cti. For 3'our dwelling, — briefly. 
Cin. Briefly, I dwell by the Capitol. 

3 Cit. Your name. Sir, truly, 
Ctn. Trulj', my name is Cinna. 

I Cit. Tear him to pieces, he's a conspirator. 
Cin. I am Cinna the poet, I am Cinna the poet. 

4 Cit. Tear him for his bad verses, tear him for his 
bad verses. , 

482. Cin. I am not Cinna the conspirator. J 

483. 2 Cit. It is no matter, his name's Cinna ; pluck but 
his name out of his heart, and turn him going. 

3 Cit. Tear him, tear him ! Come, brands, ho I fire- 
brands ! To Brutus', to Cassius' ; burn all. Some to 
Decius' house, and some to Casca's : some to Ligarius' : 
away ! go 1 [Exeunt. 



ACT IV. 

SCENE I. — The same. A Room in Antony's House. 

Antony, Octavius, and Lepidus, seated at a Table. 

485. Atit. These many, then, shall die; their names are 
pricked. 
Oct. Your brother too must die. Consent you, Lep- 
idus? 
Lep. I do consent. 
Oct. Prick him down, Antony. 

489. Le;p Upon condition Publius shall not live, 
Who is your sister's son, Mark Antony. 

490. A7tt. He shall not live ; look, with a spot I damn him. 
But, Lepidus, go you to Caesar's house; 

Fetch the will hither, and we shall determine 
How to cut off some charge in legacies. 
Lep. What, shall I find you here? 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 107 

Oct. Or here, or at the Capitol. {Exit Lepidus. 

493. Ant. This is a slight unmeritable man, 
Meet to be sent on errands : is it fit, 
The three-fold world divided, he should stand 
One of the three to share it? 
Oct. So 3'ou thought him ; 
And took his voice who should be pricked to die . 

In our black sentence and proscription. 

495. Ant. Octavius, I have seen more daj^s than you; 
And though we lay these honors on this man, 
To ease ourselves of divers slanderous loads, 
He shall but bear them as the ass bears gold, 
To groan and sweat under the business. 
Either led or driven, as we point the way; 
And, having brought our treasure where we will, 
Then take we down his load, and turn him oflf, 
Like to the empty ass, to shake his ears, 
And graze on commons. 

Oct. You may do your will ; 
But he's a tried and valiant soldier. 

497. Ant. So is my horse, Octavius; and, for that, 
I do appoint him store of provender. 

It is a creature that I teach to fight. 

To wind, to stop, to run directly on ; 

His corporal motion governed by my spirit. 

And, in some taste, is Lepidus but so; 

He must be taught, and trained, and bid go forth : 

A barren-spirited fellow; one that feeds 

On objects, arts, and imitations. 

Which, out of use, and staled by other men. 

Begin his fashion. Do not talk of him. 

But as a property. 

And now, Octavius, 
Listen great things. — Brutus and Cassius 
Are levying powers ; we must straight make head : 
Therefore let our alliance be combined. 
Our best friends made, and our best means stretched out; 
And let us presently go sit in counsel. 
How covert matters may be best disclosed, 
And open perils surest answered. 

498. Oct. Let us do so : for we are at the stake, 



io8 Julius C^sar. [act iv. 

And bayed about with many enemies ; 

And some that smile have in their hearts, I fear, 

Millions of mischiefs. [_JSxeunt. 



SCENE II. — Before Brutus's Teni^ in the Camp near 
Sard is. 

Drum. — Enter Brutus, Lucilius,Titinius, and Soldiers : 
PiNDARUS meeting' them : Lucius at a distance. 

Bru. Stand, ho ! 

Lucil. Give the word, ho ! and stand. 

501. Bru. What now, Lucilius? is Cassius near? 

502. Lucil. He is at hand ; and Pindarus is come 
To do j-ou salutation from his master. 

[Pindarus gives a Letter to Brutus. 

503. Bru. He greets me well. — Your master, Pindarus, 
In his own change, or by ill officers. 
Hath given me some worthy cause to wish 
Things done undone : but, if he be at hand, 
I shall be satisfied. 

Pin. I do not doubt 
But that my noble master will appear 
Such as he is, full of regard and honor. 

505. Bru. He is not doubted. — A word, Lucilius : 
How he received you, let me be resolved. 

506. Lucil. With courtesy, and with respect enough ; 
But not with such familiar instances. 
Nor with such free and friendly conference, 

As he hath used of old. 

507. Bru. Thou hast described 
A hot friend cooling. Ever note, Lucilius, 
When love begins to sicken and decay. 
It useth an enforced ceremony. 
There are no tricks in plain and simple faith : 
But hollow men, like horses hot at hand. 
Make gallant show and promise of their mettle; 
But, when they should endure the bloody spur, 
They fall their crests, and, like deceitful jades, 
Sink in the trial. Comes his army on? 

508. Lucil. They mean this night in Sardis to be quartered ; 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 109 

The greater part, the horse in general, 
Are come with Cassius. [^AfarcA viithin. 

509. Bru. Hark, he is arrived : — 
March gentlj^ on to meet him. 

Enter Cassius and Soldiers. 
Cas. Stand, ho ! 
Bru. Stand, ho ! Speak the word along. 

512. Within. Stand. 

513. Within. Stand. 

514. Within. Stand. 

Cas. Most noble brother, jou have done me wrong. 

Bru. Judge me, you gods ! Wrong I mine enemies? 
And, if not so, how should I wrong a brother? 

Cas. Brutus, this sober form of yours hides wrongs; 

And when you do them 

518. Brtc. Cassius, be content: 

Speak your griefs softly ; — I do know you well. — 
Before the ej'es of both our armies here, 
Which should perceive nothing but love from us, 
Let us not wrangle. Bid them move away; 
Then in my tent, Cassius, enlarge your griefs, 
And I will give you audience. 

Cas. Pindarus, 
Bid our commanders lead their charges off 
A little from this ground. 

520. Bru. Lucius, do you the like ; and let no man 
Come to our tent, till we have done our conference. 
Lucilius and Titinius, guard our door. {^Exeunt, 

SCENE III. — Within the Tent of Brutus. 
Enter Brutus and Cassius. 

521. Cas. That you have wronged me doth appear in this : 
You have condemned and noted Lucius Pella 

For taking bribes here of the Sardians ; 
Wherein my letters, praying on his side, 
Because I knew the man, were slighted off. 
Bru. You wronged yourself, to write in such a case. 
523. Cas. In such a time as this, it is not meet 

That every nice offence should bear his comment. 



no Julius C^sar. [act iv. 

524. Bru. Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself 
Are much condemned to have an itching palm, 
To sell and mart your offices for gold 
To undeservers. 

Cas. I an itching palm ? 
You know that you are Brutus that speaks this, 
Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last. 

526. Bru. The name of Cassius honors this corruption, 
And chastisement doth therefore hide his head. 
Cas. Chastisement! 

528. Bru. Remember March, the ides of March remember 1 
Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake ? 

What villain touched his body, that did stab, 
And not for justice.? What, shall one of us, 
That struck the foremost man of all this world. 
But for supporting robbers, shall we now 
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes "i 
And sell the mighty space of our large honors 
For so much trash as may be grasped thus? — 
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon. 
Than such a Roman. 

529. Cas. Brutus, bay not me; 

I'll not endure it : you forget yourself. 
To hedge me in. I am a soldier, I, 
Older in practice, abler than yourself 
To make conditions. 

530. Bru. Go to; you are not, Cassius. 
Cas. I am. 

Bru. I say, you are not. 

533. Cas. Urge me no more, I shall forget myself; 
Have mind upon your health, tempt me no further. 

534. Bru. Away, slight man ! 
Cas. Is't possible.'' 

536. Bru. Hear me, for I will speak. 

Must I give way and room to your rash choler? 
Shall I be frighted, when a madman stares .'' 

Cas. O ye gods ! ye gods ! Must I endure all this? 
538. Bru. All this } Ay, more. Fret till your proud heart 
break ; 
Go, show your slaves how choleric you are. 
And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge? 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar. hi 

Must I observe you ? Must I stand and crouch 
Under your testy humour? By the gods. 
You shall digest the venom of your spleen, 
Though it do split you : for, from this day forth, 
I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, 
When you are waspish. 
Cas. Is it come to this .'' 

540. Bru. You say you ai'e a better soldier : 
Let it appear so ; make your vaunting true, 
And it shall please me well. For mine own part, 
I shall be glad to learn of abler men. 

541. Cas. Youwrongmeeveryway, youwrongme,Brutus; 
I said an elder soldier, not a better: 

Did I say better.? 

Bru. If you did, I care not. 

Cas. When Caesar lived he durst not thus have moved 
me. 

Bru. Peace, peace; you durst not so have tempted 
him. 

Cas. I durst not.'' 

Bru. No. 

Cas. What.'' durst not tempt him? 

Bru. For your life you durst not. 

Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love : 
I may do that I shall be sorry for. 
550. Bru. You have done that you should be sorry for. 
There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats : 
For I am armed so strong in honesty. 
That they pass by ine as the idle wind, 
Which I respect not. I did send to you 
For certain sums of gold, which you denied me; — 
For I can raise no money by vile means : 
By heaven, I had rather coin my heart. 
And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring 
From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash 
By any indirection. I did send 
To you for gold to pay my legions, 
Which you denied me. Was that done like Cassius? 
Should I have answered Caius Cassius so? 
When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, 
To lock such rascal counters from his friends, 



112 Julius C^sar. [act iv. 

Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts ; 

Dash him to pieces ! 

Cas. I denied you not. 

Byu. You did. 
553. Cas. I did not : — he was but a fool 

That brought my answer back. — Brutus hath rived my 

heart : 
A friend should bear his friend's infirmities, 
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. 

Bru. I do not, till you practise them on me. 

Cas. You love me not. 

Bru. I do not like your faults. 

Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults. 

558. Bru. A flatterer's would not, though they do appear 
As huge as high Olympus. 

559. Cas. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come, 
Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius ! 

For Cassius is aweary of the world : 

Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother; 

Checked like a bondman ; all his faults observed, 

Set in a note-book, learned and conned by rote, 

To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep 

My spirit from mine eyes ! — There is my dagger, 

And here my naked breast; within, a heart 

Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold : 

If that thou beest a Roman, take it forth ; 

I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart : 

Strike, as thou didst at Caesar; for, I know. 

When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better 

Than ever thou lovedst Cassius. 

560. Bru. Sheathe your dagger : 
Be angry when you will, it shall have scope; 
Do what you will, dishonor shall be humour. 
O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb. 
That carries anger as the flint bears fire; 
Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark, 
And straight is cold again. 

561. Cas. Hath Cassius lived 
To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus, 
When grief, and blood ill-tempered, vexeth him ? 

Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill-tempered too. 



sc. in.] Julius C^sar. 113 

Cas. Do you confess so much ? Give me your hand. 

Bru. And my heart too. 

Cas. O Brutus ! — 

Brti. What's the matter? 

567. Cas. Have not you love enough to bear with me, 
When that rash humour which my mother gave me 
Makes me forgetful ? 

568. Bru. Yes, Cassius ; and from henceforth, 
When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, 
He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so. 

\_Nozse Tuithin. 

569. Poet. [ Within.'\ Let me go in to see the generals : 
There is some grudge between 'em ; 'tis not meet 
They be alone. 

570. Lucil. [ Within.'\ You shall not come to them. 
Poet. [ WitJiin.'\ Nothing but death shall stay me. 

Enter Poet. 

Cas. How now? What's the matter? 

573. Poet. For shame, you generals ! What do you mean? 
Love, and be friends, as two such men should be ; 

For I have seen more years, I'm sure, than ye. 

574. Cas. Ha, ha! how vilely doth this Cynic rhyme! 
Bru. Get you hence, sirrah ! saucy fellow, hence ! 
Cas. Bear with him, Brutus ; 'tis his fashion. 

577. Bru. I'll know his humour when he knows his time. 
What should the wars do with these jigging fools ? 
Companion, hence I 

Cas. Away ! away, be gone ! {Exit Poet. 

Enter LuciLius and Titinius. 

579. Bru. Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders 
Prepare to lodge their companies to-night. 

580. Cas. And come yourselves, and bring Messala with 

you, 

Immediately to us. {Exeunt Lucilius and Titinius. 

Bru. Lucius, a bowl of wine. 

Cas. I did not think you could have been so angry. 

Bru. O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs. 

Cas. Of your philosophy you make no use, 
If you give place to accidental evils. 



114 Julius C^sar. [act iv. 

Bru. No man bears sorrow better. — Portia is dead. 
Cas. Ha! Portia? 
Bru. She is dead. 

588. Cas. How 'scaped I killing, when I crossed you so? — 
O insupportable and touching loss ! — 

Upon what sickness .? 

589. Bru. Impatient of my absence; 

And grief, that young Octavius with Mark Antony 
Have made themselves so strong; — for with her death 
.That tidings came; — with this she fell distract, 
And, her attendants absent, swallowed fire. 
Cas. And died so.'' 
Bru. Even so. 
592. Cas. O ye immortal gods ! 



41 



Enter Lucius, Tvith Wine and Tapers. 

Bru. Speak no more of her. — Give me a bowl of 
wine : — 
In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius. {^Drinks. 

Cas. My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge. — 
Fill, Lucius, till the wine o'erswell the cup ; 
I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love. {^Drinks. 

Re-enter Titinius, -with Messala. 

595. Bru. Come in, Titinius. — Welcome, good Messala. — 
Now sit we close about this taper here, 
And call in question our necessities. 
Cas. Portia, art thou gone.-" 

597. Bru. No more, I pray you. — 
Messala, I have here received letters. 
That young Octavius, and Mark Antony, 
Come down upon us with a mighty power. 
Bending their expedition toward Philippi. 

598. Mes. Myself have letters of the self-same tenour. 
Bru. With what addition .? 

600. Mes. That by proscription and bills of outlawry, 
Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus 
Have put to death an hundred senators. 

Bru. Therein our letters do not well agree : 
Mine speak of seventy senators that died 
By their proscriptions, Cicero being one. 



sc. in.] Julius C^sar. 115 

Cas. Cicero one? 
603. Mes. Cicero is dead, 

And by that order of proscription. — 

Had you your letters from your wife, my lord? 

Bru. No, Messala. 

Mes. Nor nothing in your letters writ of her? 

Bru. Nothing, Messala. 

Mes. That, methinks, is strange. 

Bru. Why ask you ? Hear you aught of her in yours ? 

Mes. No, my lord. 

Bru. Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true. 

Mes. Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell : 
For certain she is dead, and by strange manner. 
612. Bru. Why, farewell, Portia. — We must die, Messala 
With meditating that she must die once, 
I have the patience to endure it now. 

Mes. Even so great men great losses should endure. 

614. Cas. I have as much of this in art as you, 
But yet my nature could not bear it so. 

615. Bru. Well, to our work alive. What do you think 
Of marching to Philippi presently? 

Cas. I do not think it good. 
Bru. Your reason ? 

618. Cas. This it is : 

'Tis better that the enemy seek us : 
So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers, 
Doing himself offence; whilst we, lying still. 
Are full of rest, defence, and nimbleness. 

619. Bru. Good reasons must, of force, give place to better. 
The people 'twixt Philippi and this ground 

Do stand but in a forced affection ; 

For they have grudged us contribution : 

The enemy, marching along by them. 

By them shall make a fuller number up, 

Come on refreshed, new-hearted, and encouraged; 

From which advantage shall we cut him off 

If at Philippi we do face him there, 

These people at our back. 

Cas. Hear me, good brother. 
621. Bru. Under your pardon. — You must note beside, 
That we have tried the utmost of our friends : 



ii6 Julius C^sar. [act iv. 

Our legions are brim-full, our cause is ripe; 

The enemy increaseth every day; 

We, at the height, are ready to decline. 

There is a tide in the affairs of men, 

Which, taken at thd flood, leads on to fortune; 

Omitted, all the voyage of their life 

Is bound in shallows, and in miseries. 

On such a full sea are we now afloat ; 

And we must take the current when it serves, 

Or lose our ventures. 

622. Cas. Then, with your will, go on ; 
We'll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi. 

623. Bru. The deep of night is crept upon our talk, 
And nature must obey necessity ; 
Which we will niggard with a little rest- 
There is no more to say.-" 

624. Cas. No more. Good night! 
Early to-morrow will we rise, and hence. 

625. Bru. Lucius, my gown. [^Exit LuciUS. 

Farewell, good Messala ! — 
Good night, Titinius ! — Noble, noble Cassius, 
Good night, and good repose ! 

Cas. O my dear brother. 
This was an ill beginning of the night: 
Never come such division 'tween our souls I 
Let it not, Brutus. 

Bru. Everything is well. 

Cas. Good night, my lord ! 

Bru. Good night, good brother ! 

Tit. Mes. Good night, lord Brutus ! 

Bru. Farewell, every one ! 

\_Exeunt Cassius, Titinius, and MessaLA. 

Re-enter Lucius, ^vttli the Gown. 

Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument? 
Luc. Here, in the tent. 

633. Bru. What, thou speak'st drowsily.' 

Poor knave, I blame thee not ; thou art o'erwatched. 
Call Claudius, and some other of my men; 
I'll have them sleep on cushions in my tent. 

634. Luc. Varro and Claudius ! 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 117 

Enter VAiiRO and Claudius. 

Var. Calls my lord ? 
636. Bru. I pray you, Sirs, lie in my tent, and sleep; 
It may be, I shall raise you by and by 
On business to my brother Cassius. 

Var. So please you, Ave will stand, and watch your 
pleasure. 
638. Brrc. I will not have it so : lie down, good Sirs ; 
It may be I shall otherwise bethink me. 
Look, Lucius, here's the book I sought for so ; 
I put it in the pocket of my gown. [Servants lie down. 
Luc. I was sure your lordship did not give it me. 
640. Bru. Bear with me, good boy ; I am much forgetful. 
Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile, 
And touch thy instrument a strain or two? 
Luc. Ay, mj' lord, an't please you. 
Bru. It does, my boy : 
I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing. 
Luc. It is my duty, Sir. 
644. Bru. I should not urge thy duty past thy might ; 
I know young bloods look for a time of rest. 
Luc. I have slept, my lord, already. 
646. Bru. It was well done ; and thou shalt sleep again ; 
I will not hold thee long: if I do live, 
I will be good to thee. [Music and a song. 

This is a sleepy tune. — O murderous slumber, 
Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy. 
That plays thee music? — Gentle knave, good night; 
I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee. 
If thou dost nod, thou break'st thy instrument; 
I'll take it from thee ; and, good boy, good night. 
Let me see, let me see ; — is not the leaf turned down, 
Where I left reading.? Here it is, I think. \He sits down. 

Enter the Ghost ofCMShSL. 

How ill this taper burns ! — Ha ! who comes here? 

I think it is the weakness of mine eyes 

That shapes this monstrous apparition. 

It comes upon me. — Art thou anything? 

Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil, 



n8 Julius C^sar. [act iv. 

That mak'st my blood cold, and my hair to stare ? 
Speak to me what thou art. 

647. Ghost. Thy evil spirit, Brutus. 

648. Bru. Why com'st thou ? 

Ghost. To tell thee, thou shalt see me at Philippi. 

650. Bru. Well; then I shall see thee again? 

651. Ghost. Ay, at Philippi. [Ghost vanishes. 

652. Bru. Why, I will see thee at Philippi then. — 
Now I have taken heart, thou vanishest : 

111 spirit, I would hold more talk with thee. — 

Boy ! Lucius ! — Varro ! Claudius ! Sirs, awake I — 

Claudius ! 

Luc. The strings, my lord, are false. 

Bru. He thinks, he still is at his instrument. — 
Lucius, awake ! 

Luc. My lord ! 

Bru. Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so criedst 
out.? 

Luc. My lord, I do not know that I did cry. 

Bru. Yes, that thou didst. Didst thou see anything! 

Luc. Nothing, my lord. 
660. Bru. Sleep again, Lucius. — Sirrah, Claudius ! 
Fellow thou ! awake ! 

Var. My lord ! 

Clau. My lord ! \ 

Bru. Why did you so cry out, Sirs, in your sleep ? 

Var. Clau. Did we, my lord ? 

Bru. Ay: saw you anything? 
Var. No, my lord, I saw nothing. 

Clau. Nor I, my lord. 
668. Bru. Go, and commend me to my brother Cassius ; 
Bid him set on his powers betimes before, 
And we will follow. 

Var. Clau. It shall be done, my lord. [Exeunt. 



sc. 1.] Julius C^sar. 119 



ACTV. 

SCENE I. — The Plains of PltiUppt. 

E7iter OcTAVius, Antony, and their Army. 

670. Oct. Now, Antony, our hopes are answered. 
You said the enemy would not come down, 
But keep the hills and upper regions : 

It proves not so ; their battles are at hand ; 
They mean to warn us at Philippi here, 
Answering before we do demand of them. 

671. Ant. Tut! I am in their bosoms, and I know 
Wherefore they do it : they could be content 
To visit other places ; and come down 

With fearful braveiy, thinking by this face 

To fasten in our thoughts that they have courage; 

But 'tis not so. 

Enter a Messenger. 

Mess. Prepare you, generals : 
The enemy comes on in gallant show; 
Their bloody sign of battle is hung out, 
And something to be done immediately. 

673. Ant. Octavius, lead your battle softly on, 
Upon the left hand of the even field. 

674. Oct. Upon the right hand I ; keep thou the left. 

675. Ant. Why do you cross me in this exigent? 

Oct. I do not cross you ; but I will do so. \^March. 

Drum. Enter Brutus, Cassius, and their Army ; LuciL- 
lus, TiTiNius, Messala, and others. 

677. Bru. They stand, and would have parley. 

Cas. Stand fast, Titinius : we must out and talk. 

679. Oct. Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle? 

680. Ant. No, Cjesar, we will answer on their charge. 
Make forth ; the generals would have some words. 

Oct. Stir not until the signal. 

Bru. Words before blows : is it so, countrymen? 

Oct. Not that we love words better, as you do. 

Bru. Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius. 



I20 Julius C^sar. [act v. 

Ani. In yourbad strokes, Brutus, you give good words : 
Witness the hole you made in Caesar's heart, 
Crying, Long live ! Hail, Ccesar ! 
686. Cas. Antony, 

The posture of your blows are yet unknown ; 
But for your woi-ds, they rob the Hybla bees, 
And leave them honeyless. 

Ant. Not stingless too. 

Bru. O, 3'es, and soundless too ; 
For you have stolen their buzzing, Antony, 
And, very wisely, threat before you sting. 

689. Ant. Villains, you did not so, when your vile dag- 

gers 
Hacked one another in the sides of Caesar: 
You showed your teeth like apes, and fawned like hounds, 
And bowed like bondmen, kissing Caesar's feet; 
Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind. 
Struck Cresar on the neck. O you flatterers ! 

690. Cas. Flatterers ! — Now, Brutus, thank yourself: 
This tongue had not offended so to-day, 
If Cassius might have ruled. 

691. Oct. Come, come, the cause: if arguing make ui 

sweat, 
The proof of it will turn to redder drops. 
Look! 

I draw a sword against conspirators ; 
When think you that the sword goes up again?- — 
Never, till Caesar's three and thirty wounds 
Be well avenged ; or till another Caesar 
Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors. 

692. Bru. Ccesar, thou canst not die by traitors' hands, 
Unless thou bring'st them with thee. 

Oct. So I hope ; I 

I was not born to die on Brutus' sword. II 

694. Bru. O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain, •■ 

Young man, thou couldst not die more honorable. 

Cas. A peevish schoolboy, worthless of such honor, 
Joined with a masker and a reveller. 
Ant. Old Cassius still ! 
697. Oct. Come, Antony ; away ! — 

Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth. 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 121 

If you dare fight to-day, come to the field ; 
If not,' when you have stomachs. 

\_Exetint OcTAvius, Antony, and their army. 
Cas. Why now, blow, wind ; swell, billow ; and swim, 
bark! 
The storm is up, and all is on the hazard. 
699. Bru. Ho ! Lucilius ; hark, a word with you. 
Lucil. My lord ! 

[Brutus a7td Lucilius converse apart. 
Cas. Messala, — 
Mes. What says my general .-' 
703. Cas. Messala, 

This is my birth-day ; as this very day 
Was Cassius born. Give me thy hand, Messala : 
Be thou my witness, that, against my will, 
As Pompey was, am I compelled to set 
Upon one battle all our liberties. 
You know that I held Epicurus strong, 
And his opinion : now I change my mind, 
And partly credit things that do presage. 
Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign 
Two mighty eagles fell, and there they perched, 
Gorging and feeding from our soldiers' hands ; 
Who to Philippi here consorted us : 
This morning are they fled away, and gone, 
And in their steads do ravens, crows, and kites 
Fly o'er our heads, and downward look on us, 
As we were sickly prey ; their shadows seem 
A canopy most fatal, under which 
Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost. 
Mes. Believe not so. 
705. Cas. I but believe it partly ; 

For I am fresh of spirit, and resolved 
To meet all perils very constantly. 
Bru. Even so, Lucilius. 
707. Cas. Now, most noble Brutus, 

The gods to-day stand friendly, that we may, 
Lovers in peace, lead on our days to age ! 
But, since the affairs of men rest still uncertain, 
Let's reason with the worst that may befall. 
If we do lose this battle, then is this 



122 



Julius C^sar. 



[act vj 



The very last time we shall speak together : 

What are you then determined to do ? 
708. Bru. Even by the rule of that philosophy, 

By which I did blame Cato for the death 

Which he did give himself, I know not how. 

But I do find it cowardly and vile, 

For fear of what might fall, so to prevent 

The term of life ; — arming myself with patience, 

To stay the providence of those high powers 

That govern us below. 

Cas. Then, if we lose this battle, 

You are contented to be led in triumph 

Thorough the streets of Rome? 
710. Bru. No, Cassius, no : think not, thou noble RomaH 

That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome ; 

He bears too great a mind. But this same day 

Must end that work the ides of March begun; 

And whether we shall meet again, I know not. 

Therefore, our everlasting farewell take : — 

For ever, and for ever, farewell, Cassius ! 

If we do meet again, why we shall smile; 

If not, why then, this parting was well made. 
Cas. For ever, and for ever, farewell, Brutus ! 

If we do meet again, we'll smile indeed; 

If not, 'tis true, this parting was well made. 

Bru. Why then, lead on. — O that a man might 
know 

The end of this day's business ere it come ! 

But it sufficeth that the day will end. 

And then the end is known. — Come, ho ! away! 

\^Bxeunt. 



SCENE II. — The same. The Field of Battle. 

Alarum. — Enter Brutus and Messala. 

713. Bru. Ride, ride, Messala, ride, and give these bills 
Unto the legions on the other side. \_Loud alarum.^ 

Let them set on at once : for I perceive 
But cold demeanour in Octavius' wing. 
And sudden push gives them the overthrow. 
Ride, ride, Messala : let them all come down. \_Exeunt, 



w 



sc. 



I.]. Julius C^sar. 143 



In the old copies the word, when thus contracted, is 
usually printed exactly as the adverb of place always 
is, tvkere. But if it were to be here spelled whether 
at full length, and pronounced as a dissyllable, we 
should have no more of prosodical irregularity than 
we have in many other lines. And it is occasionally 
in similar circumstances so presented in the old copies. 
16. Decked with ceremonies. — To deck (the same 
with the Latin teg-ere and the German deck-en) 
signifies properly no more than to cover. Hence the 
deck of a ship. Thatch (the German Dach) is 
another formation from the same root. To deck, 
therefore, has no connection with to decorate^ which 
is of the same stock with deceitt (from the Latin 
decus, or decor, and decet). The supposition that 
there was a connection, however, has probably 
helped to acquire for deck its common acceptation, 
which now always involves the notion of decoration 
or adornment. And that was also its established 
sense when Shakespeare wrote. By ceremonies 
must here be meant what are afterwards in 18 
called " Cffisar's trophies," and are describe in 95 
as " scarfs " which were hung on Caesai^'s images. 
No other instance of this use of the word, however, 
is produced by the commentators. In our common 
English the meaning of ceremo7ty has been extended 
so as to include also forms of civility and outward 
forms of state. We have it in that sense in 27. And 
we shall find lower down that Shakespeare uses it 
in still another sense, which is peculiar to himself, 
or which has now at least gone out. [White gives 
"ceremony" here.] See 194. 

as he thinks, " /« -what resfects they are better." All the 
other editors, I believe, give ivhe'r, or wMr-l 



144 Philological Commentary. [act 

1 7. The feast of Lufercal. — The Roman fes 
val of the Lufercalia {-iufn or -iorum) was ii 
honor of the old Italian god Lupercus, who c 
be identified with Pan. It was celebrated an 
on the Ides (or 13th) of Februaiy. A third 
pany of Luferci^ or priests of Pan, with A 
for its chief, was instituted in honor of 
Cjesar. 

18. Will make him fly. — A modern sentenci 
constructed in this fashion woyld constitute the hin 
the antecedent to the ivho^ and give it the meanin( 
of the person generally who (in this instance) else 
would soar, etc., or whoever would. But it will be 
more accordant with the style of Shakespeare's day 
to leave the him unemphatic, and to regard Ccesar 
as being the antecedent to voho. It was not then so 
unusual, or accounted so inelegant, as it would now 
be, in our more precise and straitened syntax, thus 
to separate the relative from its true antecedent by 
the interposition of another false or apparent one, or 
to tack on the relative clause to the completed state- 
ment as if it had been an afterthought. Thus, again 
in the present Play, we have, in 703, — 

Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign 
Two miglity eagles fell, and there they perched, 
Gorging and feeding from our soldiers' hands ; 
Who to Philippi here consorted us ; 

and in 715, — 

O Cassius, Brutus gave the word too early; 
Who, having some advantage on Octavius, 
Took it too eagerly. 

Scene II. — The original heading here is : — 
*•'■ Enter Ccesar, Antony for the Course^ Calphurnia, 
Portia^ Decius^ Cicero., JBrutus^ Cassius, Caska, a 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 123 

SCENE III. — The same. Another fart of the Field. 
Alarums. — Enter Cassius awrfTiTlNiuS. 

714. Cas. O, look, Titinius, look; the villains fly! 
Myself have to mine own turned enemy : 

This ensign here of mine was turning back; 
I slew the coward, and did take it from him. 

715. Tit. O Cassius, Brutus gave the word too early; 
Who, having some advantage on Octavius, 

Took it too eagerly ; his soldiers fell to spoil, 
Whilst we by Antony are all enclosed. 

Enter Pindarus. 

716. Pin. Fly further off, my lord, fly further off; 
Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord ! 

Fly therefore, noble Cassius, fly far off. 

Cas. This hill is far enough. Look, look, Titinius; 
Are those my tents, where I perceive the fire ? 
Tit. They are, my lord. 
719. Cas. Titinius, if thou lov'st me. 

Mount thou my horse, and hide thy spurs in him, 
Till he have brought thee up to yonder troops 
And here again ; that I may rest assured. 
Whether yond troops are friend or enemy. 

Tit. I will be here again even with a thought. {Exit. 
'721. Cas. Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill; 
My sight was ever thick ; regard Titinius, 
And tell me what thou not'st about the field. — 

\_Exit Pindarus. 
This day I breathed first : time is come round, 
And, where I did begin, there shall I end ; 
My life is run his compass. — Sirrah, what news? 
Pin. lAbove.'] O my lord ! 
Cas. What news ? 
724. Pin. Titinius is enclosed round about 

With horsemen, that make to him on the spur; — 
Yet he spurs on. — Now they are almost on him. 
Now, Titinius ! — 

Now some light : — O, he lights too : — {Shout. 

' He'sta'en; — and, hark! 
h They shout for joy. 



124 Julius C^sar. [act v. 

725. Cas. Come down ; behold no more. ' 

O, coward that I am, to live so long, 
To see my best friend ta'en before my face 1 

Enter Pindarus. 

Come hither, sirrah ! 

In Parthia did I take thee prisoner; 

And then I swore thee, saving of thy life, 

That, whatsoever I did bid thee do. 

Thou shouldst attempt it. Come now, keep thine oath I 

Now be a freeman ; and with this good sword, 

That ran through Csesar's bowels, search this bosom. 

Stand not to answer : here, take thou the hilts ; 

And when my face is covered, as 'tis now, 

Guide thou the sword. — Caesar, thou art revenged, 

Even with the sword that killed thee. \_Diei. 

Pin. So, I am free ; yet would not so have been, 
Durst I have done my will. O Cassius ! 
Far from this country Pindarus shall run, 
Where never Roman shall take note of him. \_ExiU 

Re-enter Titinius, -with Messala. 

727. Mes. It is but change, Titinius ; for Octavius 
Is overthrown by noble Brutus' power, 
As Cassius' legions are by Antony. 

Tit. These tidings will well comfort Cassius. 

Mes. Where did you leave him .-' 

Tit. All disconsolate. 
With Pindarus his bondman, on this hill. 

Mes. Is not that he, that lies upon the ground? 

Tit. He lies not like the living. O my heart 1 

Mes. Is not that he ? 

734. Tit. No, this was he, Messala ; 

But Cassius is no more. — O setting sun ! 

As in thy red rays thou dost sink to night. 

So in his red blood Cassius' day is set; 

The sun of Rome is set! Our day is gone; 

Clouds, dews, and dangers come; our deeds are done! 

Mistrust of my success hath done this deed. 

735. Mes. Mistrust of good success hath done this deed. 
O hateful Error ! Melancholy's child 1 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 125 

Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men 
The things that are not? O EiTor, soon conceived, 
Thou never com'st unto a happy birth, 
But kill'st the motlier that engendered thee. 

Tit. What, Pindarus! Where art thou, Pindarus? 
Mes. Seek him, Titinius, whilst I go to meet 
The noble Brutus, thrusting this report 
Into his ears : I may say, thrusting it ; 
For piercing steel, and darts envenomed, 
Shall be as welcome to the eai-s of Brutus 
As tidings of this sight. 
738. Tit. Hie you, Messala, 

And I will seek for Pindarus the Avhile. [^a;«V Messala. 

Why didst thou send me forth, brave Cassius .'' 

Did I not meet thy friends ? and did not they 

Put on my brows this wreath of victory, 

And bid me give it thee? Didst thou not hear their 

shouts ? 
Alas, thou hast misconstrued everything. 
But hold thee, take this garland on thy brow; 
Thy Brutus bid me give it thee, and I 
Will do his bidding. — Brutus, come apace, 
And see how I regarded Caius Cassius. — 
By your leave, gods : — this is a Roman's part: 
Come, Cassius' sword, and find Titinius' heart. \Dies. 

Alarum. — Re-enter Messala, -with Brutus, young Q\to, 
Strato, Volumnius, and Lucilius. 

Bru. Where, where, Messala, doth his body lie ? 
740. Mes. Lo, yonder ; and Titinius mourning it. 
Bru. Titinius' face is upward. 
Cato. He is slain. 
743. Bru. O Julius Csesar, thou art mighty yet ! 
Thy spirit Avalks abroad, and turns our swords 
In our own proper entrails. [Z-cw alarums. 

744- Cato. Brave Titinius ! 

Look, whe'r he have not crowned dead Cassius ! 
745. Bru. Are yet two Romans living such as these? — 
The last of all the Romans, fare thee well ! 
It is impossible that ever Rome 
Should breed thy fellow. — Friends, I owe moe tears 



126 Julius C^sar. [act v. 

To this dead man, than you shall see me pay. — 

I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time. — 

Come, therefore, and to Thassos send his body: 

His funerals shall not be in our camp. 

Lest it discomfort us. — Lucilius, come ; — 

And come, young Cato ; let us to the field. — 

Labeo, and Flavins, set our battles on : — 

'Tis three o'clock; and, Romans, yet ere night 

We shall try fortune in a second fight. [_Exeuni. 



SCENE IV. — Another ^art of the Field. 

Alarum. — Enter, fighting. Soldiers of botJi Armies ; then 
Brutus, Cato, Lucilius, a«<f others. 

Bru. Yet, countrymen, O, j^et hold up your heads! 
747. Cato. What bastard doth not. ^ Who will go with me? 
I will proclaim my name about the field : — 
I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho ! 
A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend ; 
I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho! \_Charges the enemy. 

Bru. And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I ; 
Brutus, my country's friend ; know me for Brutus. 

\_Exit, charging the efiemy. Cato is 
overpoivered, and falls. 
Liicil. O young and noble Cato, art thou down ? 
Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius ; 
And mayst be honored, being Cato's son. 

1 Sold. Yield, or thou diest. 

751. Lucil. Only I j'ield to die : 
There is so much, that thou wilt kill me straight ; 

[ Offering money. 
Kill Brutus, and be honored in his death. 

752. I Sold. We must not. — A noble prisoner ! 

2 Sold. Room, ho ! Tell Antony, Brutus is ta'en. 
754. I Sold. I'll tell the news. — Here comes the general. — 

Enter Antony. 

Brutus is ta'en, Brutus is ta'en, my lord. 
Ant. Where is he.? 
Lucil. Safe, Antony ; Brutus is safe enough. 



sc. v.] Julius C^sar. 127 

I dare assure thee, that no enemy 
Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus : 
The gods defend him from so great a shame ! 
When you do find' him, or alive or dead, 
He will be found like Brutus, like himself. 
757. Ant. This is not Brutus, friend ; but, I assure you, 
A prize no less in worth. Keep this man safe; 
Give him all kindness : I had rather have 
Such men my friends than enemies. Go on, 
And see whe'r Brutus be alive or dead ; 
And bring us word unto Octavius' tent 
How everything is chanced.. \Rxeunt^ 



SCENE V. — Another fart of ike Field. 
Enter Brutus, Dardanius, Clitus, Strato, and 

VOLUMNIUS. 

Brii. Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock. 
Cli. Statilius showed the torch-light; but, my lord, 
He came not back : he is or ta'en or slain. 
760. Bru. Sit thee down, Clitus. Slaying is the word; 
It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus. — 

[ Whisfering. 
Cli. What ! I, my lord .? No, not for all the world. 
Bru. Peace, then ! no words. 
Cli. I'll rather kill myself. 

Bru. Hark thee, Dardanius ! [ Whispers him, 

Dar. Shall I do such a deed.^ 
Cli. O Dardanius ! 
Dar. O Clitus ! 

Cli. What ill request did Brutus make to thee.? 
Dar. To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates. 
770. Cli. Now is that noble vessel full of grief. 
That it runs over even at his eyes. 

Bru. Come hither, good Volumnius ; list a word. 
Vol. What says my lord.'' 
773- Bru. Why, this, Volumnius : 

The ghost of Ceesar hath appeared to me 
Two several times by night : at Sardis, once ; 
And, this last night, here in Philippi fields. 
I know my hour is come. 



128 Julius C-<esar. [act v. 

Vol. Not so, my lord. 
775. Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. 

Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes ; 
Our enemies have beat us to the pit : [Z,ow alarums* 
It is more worthy to leap in ourselves 
Than tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius, 
Thou know'st, that we two went to school together; 
Even for that our love of old, I pr'ythee, 
Hold thou my sword hilts whilst I run on it. 
Vol. That's not an office for a friend, my lord. 

[^Alarum still. 

777. Cli. Fly, fly, my lord ; there is no tarrying here. 

778. Bru. Farewell to you ; — and you ; — and you, Vo- 

lumnius. — 
Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep ; 
Farewell to thee too, Strato. — Countrymen, 
My heart doth joy, that yet in all my life 
I found no man but he was true to me. 
I shall have glory by this losing day. 
More than Octavius and Mark Antony 
By this vile conquest shall attain unto. 
So, fare you well at once : for Brutus' tongue 
Hath almost ended his life's history. 
Night hangs upon mine eyes ; my bones would rest. 
That have but laboured to attain this hour. 

[Alarutn. Cry -within, Fly, fly, fly! 
Cli. Fly, my lord, fly! 
780. Bru. Hence ! I will follow. 

\Exeu7it Clitus, Dardanius, and Volumnius. 
I pr'ythee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord. 
Thou art a fellow of a good respect ; 
Thy life hath had some smatch of honor in it : 
Hold, then, my sword, and turn away thy face 
While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato.'' 

Stra. Give me j'our hand first : fare j'ou well, my 

lord. 
Bru. Farewell, good Strato. — Caesar, now be still : 
I killed not thee with half so good a will. 

\He runs on his sivord and dies. 



sc. v.] Julius C^sar. 129 

Alarum. — Retreat. Enter OcTAVius, Antony, Messala, 
LuciLius, and their Army. 
Oct. What man is that? 

Mes. My master's man. — Strato, where is thy master? 
Stra. Free from the bondage you are in, Messala : 
The conquerors can but make a fire of him ; 
For Brutus only overcame himself, 
And no man else hath honor by his death. 
Lucil. So Brutus should be found. — I thank thee, 
Brutus, 
That thou hast proved Lucilius' saying true. 

787. Oct. All that served Brutus, I will entertain them. 
Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me? 

788. Stra. *h.y, if Messala will prefer me to you. 
Oct. Do so, good Messala. 

790. Mes. How died my master, Strato ? 

Stra. I held the sword, and he did run on it. 

792. Mes. Octavius, then take him to follow thee, 
That did the latest service to my master. 

793. Atit. This was the noblest Roman of them all. 
All the conspirators, save only he. 

Did that they did in envy of great Caesar; 

He only, in a generous honest thought 

Of common good to all, made one of them. 

His life was gentle ; and the elements 

So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up. 

And say to all the world, This xvas a man ! 

Oct. According to his virtue let us use him, 
With all respect and rites of burial. 
Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie. 
Most like a soldier, ordered honorably. — 
So, call the field to rest ; and let's away, 
To part the glories of this happy day. [Exeuftt. 

9 



PHILOLOGICAL COMMENTARY 



Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. 



ACT I. 

Scene I. — The heading here in the original text 
is: — '■''Actus Primus. Scoejza Prima. Enter 
Flavius., Murellus^ and certaine Commoners over 
the Stage." Mzirellus stands throughout not only 
in all the Folios, but also in the editions of both 
Rowe and Pope. The right name was first in- 
serted by Theobald. 

This opening scene may be compared with the 
first part of that of Coriolanus^ to which it bears a 
strong general resemblance. 

I. Tou ought not walk. — The history and expla- 
nation of this now disused construction may be best 
collected from a valuable paper by Dr. Guest " On 
English Verbs, Substantive and Auxiliary," read 
before the Philological Society, 13th March, 1846, 
and printed in their Proceedings^ II. 233. " Origi- 
nally," says Dr. Guest, " the to was prefixed to the 
gerund, but never to the present infinitive ; as, 
however, the custom gradually prevailed of using 
the latter in place of the former, the to was more 
and more frequently prefixed to the infinitive, till it 

(131) 



132 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

came to be considered as an almost necessary appen- 
dage of it. Many idioms, however, had sunk too 
deeply into the language to admit of alteration ; and 
other phrases, to which the popular ear had been 
familiarized, long resisted the intrusive particle." 
The ancient syntax is still retained in all cases with 
the auxiliary verbs, as they are called, shall, will, 
can, ?7iay, do, and also with mtist and let, and oftener 
than not with bid, dare, have, hear, make, see, and 
perhaps some others. Cause is frequently so used ; 
and so is help, sometimes, — as in Milton's Sonnet 
to his friend Lawrence : — 

Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire 
Help waste a sullen day? 

But, even since the language may be said to have 
entered upon the stage of its existence in which it 
still is, several of the verbs just enumerated as not 
admitting the to are occasionally found following the 
common example and taking it ; and others, again, 
which at the present day have completely conformed 
to the ordinary construction, formerly used now and 
then to dispense with it. One of Dr. Guest's quota- 
tions exemplifies both these archaisms ; it is from the 
portion of The Mirror for Magistrates contributed 
by John Higgins in 1574 {King Albanact, 16) : — 

And, though we owe the fall of Troy requite, 
Yet let revenge thereof from gods to light. 

That is, " Though we ought to requite, . . . yet let 
revenge light," as we should now say. Here we 
have let with the to, and owe (of which ought or 
owed is the preterite) , as in Shakespeare's expression 
before us, without it. Others of Dr. Guest's citations 
from the same writer exhibit the auxiliaries may, 
will, can, with the to. And he also produces from 
Spenser {F. ^., iv. 7. 32), — 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. ' 133 

Whom when on ground she grovelling saw to roll; 
and from Shakespeare {Othello, iv. 2), — 

I durst, my Lord, to wager she is honest. 
Other verbs that are found in Shakespeare some- 
times construed in the saine manner are endure, 
forbid, intend, vouchsafe ; as, — 

The treason that my haste forbids me show. 

Rich. IT., V. 3. 

How long within this wood intend you stay .'' 

Mid. N. Dr., ii. i. 

Your betters have endured me say my mind. 

Tarn, of Shrew, iv. 3. 

Most mighty Duke, vouchsafe me speak a word. 

Com. of Er., v. i. 

The verb to owe, it may further be observed, is 
etymologically the same with own. Shakespeare 
repeatedly has owe where own would be now em- 
ployed ; as in lago's diabolical self-gratulation (in 
Othello, iii. 3) : — 

Not poppy, nor mandragora, 
Nor all the drowsy sjTops of the world. 
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep 
Which thou oivedst yesterday. 

The Saxon word is dgan, — the ag, or radical part, of 
which is evidently the same with the bx of the Greek 
£^ft»', signifying to hold, to possess, to have for one's 
property, or what we call one's own. If we sup- 
pose the a to have been pronounced broad, as in our 
modern all, and the g to have come to be softened 
as^ final usually is in modern German, ag and owe, 
unlike as they are to the eye, will be only different 
ways of spelling, or representing by letters, almost 
the same vocal utterance. The sound which the 
vowel originally had is more nearly preserved in the 
Scotch form of the word, awe. The n which we 



134 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

have in the form otvn is either merel}- the common 
annexation which the vowel sound is apt to seek as 
a support or rest for itself, or, probably, in this case 
it may be the en of the ancient past participle {agen) 
or the an of the infinitive {dgan). So we have both 
to awake and to awakeit^ to ope and to opcfi. In so 
short a word as the one under consideration, and one 
in such active service, these affixes would be the 
more liable to get confounded with the root. It may 
sound odd to speak of a man as owiting what he 
owes; yet, if we will think of it, there are few things 
that can rightly be said to be more a man's own than 
his debts ; they are emphatically proper to him, or 
his property^ clinging to him, as they do, like a part 
of himself Again, that which a man owns in this 
sense, or owes^ is that which it is proper for him, or 
which he has^ to perform or to discharge (as the 
case may be) ; hence the secondaiy meaning of 
ought as applied to that which is one's duty, or 
which is fitting. [See Latham's English Lan- 
guage, Fifth Edition, (1S62), §§ 599, 605, 606, 727; 
and Marsh, Lectures on English Language, First 
Series, pp. 320-325.] 

I. Upon a labouring day. — Laboring is here a 
substantive, not a participle. It is as when we say 
that we love laboring, or that laboring is conducive 
to health of mind as well as of body. It is not 
meant that the day labors ; as when we speak of a 
laboring man, or a laboring ship, or a laboring 
line — 

(When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, 
The line too labours, and the words move slow). 

A laboring day is an expression of the same kind 
with a walking stick, or a riding coat; in which it 
is not asserted that the stick walks, or that the coat 



sc. 1.] Julius Caesar. 135 

rides ; but. two substantives being conjoined, the one 
characterizes or qualifies the other, — performs, in 
fact, the part of an adjective, — just as happens in 
the expressions a gold ring^ a leather ap7'on, a 
niorning call, the evening bells. 

An expression used by Cowper (in his verses 
composed in the name of Alexander Selkirk), "the 
sound of the church-going bell," has been passion- 
ately reprobated by Wordsworth. " The epithet 
church-going applied to a bell," obsei-ves the critic 
(in an Appendix upon the subject of Poetic Diction, 
first attached, I believe, in 1820 to the Preface origi- 
nally published with the Second Edition of the Lyri- 
cal Ballads, 1800), " and that by so chaste a writer 
as Cowper, is an instance of the strange abuses 
which poets have introduced into their language, till 
they and their readers take them as matters of course, 
if they do not single them out expressly as matters 
of admiration." A church-going bell is merely a 
bell for church-going ; and the expression is con- 
structed on the same principle with a thousand others 
that are and always have been in familiar use ; — 
such as a marauding expedition, a banking or a 
house-building speculation, a writing desk, a looking 
glass, a dining room, a dancing school, a dwelling 
house, etc., etc. What would Wordsworth have 
said to such a daring and extreme employment of 
the same form as we have in Shakespeare, where he 
makes Cleopatra (in Antony and Cleopatra., iii. 11) 
say, speaking of the victorious Csesar, — 

From his all-obeying breath I hear 
The doom of Egypt? 

But these audacities of language are of the very soul 
of poetry. 

The peculiar class of substantives under consider- 



136 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

ation cannot, properly speaking, be regarded as even 
present participles in disguise. Their true history 
has been given for tlie first time by Mr. Richard 
Taylor in his Additional Notes to Tooke's Diver- 
sions of Pnrley^ 1829 and 1840; see edition of 
1840 [or i860], pp. xxxix.-liv. The termination of 
the present participle in Saxon was ende; and when 
that part of the verb was used substantively it de- 
noted the agents or performer of the verbal act. 
Thus, Haeland signified the Healer, or Saviour ; 
Scyppend^ the Shaper, or Creator. Ing or ung^ on 
the other hand, was the regular termination of that 
description of verbal substantive which denoted the 
act. Thus Brennung was what in Latin would be 
called Co7nbustio, and what in our modern English 
is still called the Biirning. In other tongues of the 
same Gothic stock to which our own in part belongs, 
both forms are still preserved. In German, for in- 
stance, we have end for the termination universally 
of the present participle, and uiig for that of a nu- 
merous class of verbal substantives all signifying the 
act or thing done. It never could have been sup- 
posed that in that language these verbal substantives 
in tmg were present participles. 

But in English the fact is, as Mr. Taylor has 
.observed, that it is not the verbal substantive de- 
noting the act which has assumed the form of the 
present participle, but the latter which has thrown 
away its own proper termination and adopted that 
of the former. This change appears to have com- 
menced as early as the twelfth century, and to have 
been completely established by the fourteenth. Even 
after tlie middle of the sixteenth century, however, 
we have the old distinction between the two termina- 
tions (tlie e7td or and for the present participle, or 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 137 

the agent, and the ing for the verbal act) still adhered 
to by the Scottish writers. 

[One might infer from this statement that the dis- 
tinction was uniformly regarded by Scottish writers 
of the sixteenth century. What Mr. Taylor says is 
this : " Though the use of ing for the present parti- 
ciple was fully established in the fourteenth century, 
the age of Langland, Chaucer, and Wiclif, yet the 
ancient ande was still occasionally used, both being 
found in the same writers, and sometimes in the very 
same sentence ; and in the North, to the end of the 
sixteenth century." 

The following are examples of the two endings 
appropriately used in the same sentence : — 

Hors, or hund, or othir thing 
That war plesa/i!</ to thar XWing. 

Barbour (1357). 
Full low \xic\\na7id to their queen full clear 
Whom for their noble nourishw/^ thej thank. 

Dunbar (^Ellis's Spec.^. 

Our sovereign ha^Yand her majesty's promise be yfviting 
of luff, friendship, etc. 

Lord Herries (1568, quoted by Robertson). 

The following are examples of the indiscriminate 
use of these endings : — 

herdes of oxin and of fee, 

Fat and tidy, rakflr«<? over all quhare, 
In the rank gers pasturzV/_§- on raw. 

Gawin Douglas. 

Ch&ngyttg in sorrow our sang melodious, 
Quhilk we had wont to sing with good intent 
'R.t&onndand to the hevinnis firmament. 

Sir D. Lyndsay (1528). 

I may add that in Gower (Pauli's ed.) the pre- 
vailing form of the participle is -ende; while in 
Chaucer (Wright's ed.) -ing is the ending. Mr. 



138 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

Taylor says, " It requires a long search in Chaucer's 
works to find a participle in ande" 

See also Marsh, Led. on Eng. Lang.., First 
Series, pp. 649-658,] 

I. What trade art thou? — The rationale of this 
mode of expression may be seen from the answer to 
the question : " Why, Sir, a carpenter." The trade 
and the person practising it are us^d indifferently 
the one for the other: "What trade art thou?" is 
equivalent to "What tradesman ai"t thou?" So in 
6 we have — "A trade . . . which is, indeed, a 
mender of bad soles." The thou^ as here and in 
5, 7, 9, II, 13, was still common in the English of 
Shakespeare's age ; it was the ordinary form in 
addressing an inferior ; only when he was tfeated, 
or affected to be treated, as a gentleman, the me- 
chanic received the inore honorable compellation of 
you; — as in 3, "You, Sir., what trade are you?" 
Thou., Sir., would have been incongruous in the 
circumstances. 

6. Soles. — Quasi souls; — an immemorial quib- 
ble, doubtless. It is found also (as Malone notes) in 
Fletcher's Woman Pleased. Yet we might seem to 
have a distinction of pronunciation between sotd and 
sole indicated in The Merchant of Vefzice, iv. I, 
"Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew." 

7. This speech in the old copies is given to 
Flavius; and it is restored to him by Mr. Knight, 
who observes that the modern editors " assume 
that only one of the tribunes should take the lead ; 
whereas it is clear that the dialogue is more natural, 
certainly more dramatic, according to the original 
arrangement, where Flavins and Marullus alter- 
nately i-ate the people, like two smiths smiting on 
the same anvil." But this will not explain or ac- 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 139 

count for the " mend me" of Marullus in 9. That 
proves beyond controversy that the preceding speech 
(8) was addressed to Marullus ; and it is equally 
clear that the you of speech 8 is the person to whom 
speech 7 belongs. The rating, besides, is as much 
alternate, or intermingled, in the one way as in the 
other : Mr. Knight gives six speeches to Flavins and 
five to Marullus ; the common arrangement gives 
five to Flavins and six to Marullus. [Collier, Dyce, 
and White give the speech to Marullus ; Hudson, to 
Flavius.] 

8. Be not out with me; yet^ if yotc be out. — The 
two senses of being out are obvious : " They are out 
with one another," or, simply, " They are out ; " and 
" He is out at the elbows," or in any other part of 
his dress. 

9. Mend me. — The answer shows that me?id, not 
me, is the emphatic word. 

12. Bzit with awl. — Mr. Knight and Mr. Collier 
[and Hudson] print " with all." This, apparently, 
would accord with Farmer's notion, who maintains 
that the true reading is, " I meddle with no trade, 
man's matters," etc., understanding with awl, or 
with all, I suppose, to involve, as one of its mean- 
ings, that of " with all trades." The original read- 
ing [which White adopts] is, " but withal I am 
indeed, Sir, a surgeon," etc. And the Second Folio 
has " woman^s matters." 

12. As proper men. — h. proper man is a man 
such as he should be. In The Tempest, ii. 2, we 
have the same expression that we have here distrib- 
uted into two successive speeches of the drunken 
Stephano : — " As proper a man as ever went on four 
legs ; " and " Any emperor that ever trod on neat's 
leather." 



140 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

[A proper man, a proper fellow, a proper gentle- 
woman, etc., are very common expressions in Shake- 
speare. See Mrs. Clarke's Co7icordance. Compare 
Hebrews^ xi. 23. For the word in its other sense, 
one's own, jDeculiar, see 45 and 743 ; also, i Chron. 
xxix. 3 ; Acts i. 19 ; i Cor. vii. 7.] 

15. Wherefore rejoice? etc. — This was in the 
beginning of B. C. 44 (A. U. C. 709), when Caesar, 
having returned from Spain in the preceding Octo- 
ber, after defeating the sons of Pompey at the Battle 
of Mimda (fought 17th March, B. C. 45), had been 
appointed Consul for the next ten years and Dictator 
for life. The festival of the Lupercalia, at which he 
was offered and declined the crown, was celebrated 
13th February, B. C. 44; and he was assassinated 
15th March following, being in his fifty-sixth year. 

15. j\Ia?zy a time and oft. — This old phrase, 
which is still familiar, may be held to be equivalent 
to many and many a time, that is, many times and 
yet again many more times. The old pointing of 
this line is, " Knew you not Pompey many a time 
and oft ? " It is like what all the Folios give us in 
Macbeth.^ \. $: — 

Your face, my thane, is as a book where men 
May read strange matters, to beguile the time. 

What follows, — "Have yo\x climbed up," etc., — 
is, of course, made a second question. 

15. That Tiber trembled tmderneath her banks. 
— The proper antecedent of that {so., or in such 
wise') is left unexpressed, as sufficiently obvious. — 
Some of the modern editors have taken the unwar- 
rantable liberty of changing her into his in this line 
and the next but one, because Tiber is masculine in 
Latin. This is to give us both language and a con- 
ception different from Shakespeare's. 



I sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 141 

I 15. Made in her concave shores. — An imperfect 
_Hrie (or hemistich, as it is commonly called), but 
prosodically regular so far as it goes, which is all we 
have a right to look for. The occasional use of such 
shortened lines would seem to be, at least in dramatic 
poetry, one of the proper and natural prerogatives 
of blank verse, according well, as it does, with the 
variety of pause and cadence which makes the dis- 
tinctive charm of verse of that form. But, appar- 
ently, it need not be assumed, as is always done, 
that the fragment must necessarily be in all cases the 
beginning of a line. Why should not the poet be 
supposed sometimes, when he begins a new sentence 
or paragraph in this manner, to intend that it should 
:be connected, in the prosody as well as in the mean- 
ing, with what follows, not with what precedes? A 
few lines lower down, for instance, the words " Be 
gone " might be either the first foot of the verse or 
the last. 

16. Weep yozir tears. — We should scarcely now 
speak of weeping tears absolutely, though we might 
say " to weep tears of blood, or of agony, or of bit- 
terness," or " to weep an ocean of tears, or our fill 
of tears." This sense of the verb weep is quite dis- 
tinct from the sense it commonly has when used 
transitively, which is to weep for, or to lament ; as 
when in Cy?nbeUne (i. 5) lachimo speaks of " those 
that weep this lamentable divorce." It more resem- 
bles what we have in the phrases T'o sin the sin., To 
die the death.. To sing a song; — expressive forms, 
to which the genius of our tongue has never been 
very prone, and to which it is now decidedly averse. 
They owe their effect, in part, indeed, to a certain 
naturalness, or disregard of strict propriety, which a 
full-grown and educated language is apt to feel 



142 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

ashamed of as something rustic or childish. Per- 
haps, however, a distinction should be drawn be- 
tween such an expression as To weep tears and 
such as To sin a sin^ To sing a song, in which the 
verb is merely a synonyme for to act, to perform, to 
execute. [Compare Milton's " tears such as angels 
weep." P. L. i. 620.] 

16. Till the lowest stream, etc. — In the do kiss 
we have a common archaism, the retention of the 
auxiliaiy, now come to be regarded, when it is not 
emphatic, as a pleonasm enfeebling the expression, 
and consequently denied alike to the writer of prose 
and to the writer of verse. It is thus in even a worse 
predicament than the separate pronunciation of the 
final ed in the preterite indicative or past participle 
passive. In the age of Shakespeare they were both, 
though beginning to be abandoned, still part and 
parcel of the living language, and instances of both 
are numerous in the present Play. The modern 
forms probably were as yet completely established 
only in the spoken language, which commonly goes 
before that which is written and read, in such eco- 
nomical innovations. — For the modern stage direc- 
tion Exeunt Citizens, the original text has here 
Exeunt all the Co7timoners. 

16. See ivheW their basest metal. — WheW is 
whether. The contraction is common both in 
Shakespeare and in other writei^s of his age. [So 
in earlier writers, as Chaucer and Gower.] Thus 
we have, in his 59th Sonnet, — 

Whether we are mended, or luhe'r better they,* 
Or -whether revolution be the same. 

* [Collier adopts the reading of the edition of 1609, 
" Whether we are mended, or -where better they," meaning, 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 145 

Soothsayer : after thei?i Murellus and Flavins." 
The three stage directions about the Music are all 
modern. 

23. Stand you directly^ etc. — The sacerdotal 
runners wore only a cincture of goatskins, the same 
material of which their thongs were made. The 
passage in Plutarch's Life of Julius Csesar as ti^ans- 
lated by Sir Thomas North is as follows : — 

At that time the feast Lupercalia was celebrated, the 
which in old time, men say, was the feast of Shepherds or 
Herdsmen, and is much like unto the feast of Ljceians 
\_Avy.iia\ in Arcadia. But, howsoever it is, that daj there are 
divers noblemen's sons, young men (and some of them ma- 
gistrates themselves that govern them), which run naked 
through the citj', striking in sport them they meet in their 
way with leather thongs. And many noble women' and 
gentlewomen also go of purpose to stand in their way, and 
do put forth their hands to be stricken, persuading them- 
selves that, being with child, they shall have good delivery, 
and also, being barren, that it will make them conceive Avith 
child. Csesar sat to behold that sport upon the pulpit for 
orations, in a chair of gold, apparelled in triumphant man- 
ner. Antonius, who was Consul at that time, was one of 
them that ronne this holy course. 

Here, and in 25, as generally throughout the Play, 
^Antonius is Antonio in the original text, and in all 
the editions down to that of Pope. 
i 32. The Ides of March. — In the Roman Kalen- 
idar the Ides {Id?ts) fell on the 15th of March, May, 
:July, and October, and on the 13th of the eight 
remaining months. 

34. A soothsayer^ bids. — That is, It is a sooth- 
sayer, who bids. It would not otherwise be an 
answer to Csesar's question. The omission of the 
relative in such a construction is still common. 
i[All the editors omit the comma here.] 

39. The old stage direction here is — '•'' Sennei* 
10 



146 Philological Commentary. [act i, 

Exeunt. Manet Brut, et Cass." The wore 
Sennet is also variously written Sennit, Senet^ 
Synnet., Cynet., Signet., and Signate. Nares ex- 
plains it as " a word chiefly occurring in the stage 
directions of the old plays, and seeming to indicate 
a particular set of notes on the trumpet, or cornet, 
diherent from a floui'ish." In Shakespeare it occurs 
again in the present Play at 6*]., in the heading to 
Antony and Cleopatra, ii. 7? in Henry VIII., ii. 4, 
and in Coriolanus, i. i and 2, where in the first 
scene we have "A Sennet. Trumpets sound." In 
the heading of the second scene of the fifth act of 
Beaumont and Fletcher's Knight of Malta we have 
" Synnet, i. e. Floitrish of Trtimpets" But in 
Y)€^sjtx's Satiromastix{\Go2) \NQ have "Trumpets 
sound a flourish, and then a sennet." Steevens 
says, " I have been informed that sen7iet is derived 
from senneste, an antiquated French tune formerly 
used in the army ; but the Dictionaries which I have 
consulted exhibit no such word." 

44. That gentleness . . . as I was, etc. — We 
should now say " that gentleness that I was wont to 
have." It is not very long since the conjunction as was 
used at least in one case in which we now always em- 
ploy that. "6"(9 — as," says Bishop Lowth {Introd. 
to Eng. Gram.), "was used by the writers of the 
last (17th) century to express a consequence, in- 
stead of so — that. Swift [who died 1 745], I believe, 
is the last of our good writers who has frequently 
used this manner of expression." 

44. Over yotcr friend that loves you. — It is 
frie?ids in the Second Folio. 

45. Merely upon myself. — Merely (from the 
Latin merus and mere) means purely, only. It 
separates that which it designates or qualifies from 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 147 

everything else. But in so doing the chief or most 
emphatic reference may be made either to that which 
is included, or to that which is excluded. In modern 
English it is always to the latter ; by " merely upon 
myself" we should now mean upon nothing else 
except myself; the 7tothing else is that which the 
merely makes prominent. In Shakespeare's day the 
other reference was the more common, that namely 
to what was included ; and " merely" upon myself" 
meant upon myself altogether, or without regard to 
'anything else. Myself was that which the merely 
made prominent. So when Hamlet, speaking of the 
■world, says (i. 2), " Things rank and gross in nature 
'possess it merely" he by the merely brings the pos- 
•session before the mind, and characterizes it as com- 
■plete and absolute ; but by the same term now the 
'prominence would be given to something else from 
which the possession might be conceived to be 
separable; "possess it merely" would mean have 
nothing beyond simply the possession of it (have, it 
■might be, no right to it, or no enjoyment of it). It 
■is not necessary that that which is included, though 
-thus emphasized, should therefore be more definitely 
"conceived than that with which it is contrasted. So, 
•again, when in Henry VIII. ^ iii. 2, the Earl of 
-Surrey charges Wolsey with having sent large sup- 
plies of substance to Rome " to the mere undoing 
of all the kingdom," he means to the complete 
tundoing of all the kingdom, to nothing less than 
such undoing ; but in our modern English the words 
would sound as if the speaker's meaning were, to 
nothing more than the undoing of the kingdom. 
The mere would lead us to think of something else, 
-some possible aggravation of the undoing (such, for 



148 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

instance, as the disgrace or infamy), from which 
that was to be conceived as separated. 

The use of merely here is in exact accordance 
with that oi mere in Othello^ ii. 2, where the Herald 
proclaims the tidings of what he calls " the mere 
perdition of the Turkish fleet " (that is, the entire 
perdition or destruction). In Helena's "Ay, surely, 
mere the truth," in AlVs Well that Ends Well, iii. 
5, mere would seem to have the sense of merely 
(that is, simply, exactly), if there be no misprint. 

Attention to such changes of import or effect, 
slight as they may seem, which many words have 
undergone, is indispensable for the correct under- 
standing of our old writers. Their ignorance of the 
old sense of this same word merely has obscured a 
passage in Bacon to his modern editoi^s. In his 58th 
Essay, entitled " Of Vicissitudes of Things," he 
says, " As for conflagrations and great droughts, 
they do not 7nerely dispeople and destroy " — mean- 
ing, as the train of the reasoning clearly requires, 
that they do not altogether do so. Most of the edi- 
tors (Mr. Montague included) have changed " and 
destroy" into '•'•but destroy;" others leave out the 
"not" before merely; either change being subver- 
sive of the meaning of the passage and inconsistent 
with the context. [Spedding and Ellis's edition has 
and; Whately's, but^^ The reading of the old I 
copies is confirmed by the Latin translation, done 
under Bacon's own superintendence : " Illas popu- 
lum penitus non absorbent aut destruunt." 

So in the 3d Essay, " Of Unity in Religion," 
when we are told that extremes would be avoided 
" if the points fundamental and of substance in re- 
ligion were truly discerned and distinguished from 
points not merely of faith, but of opinion, order, or 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 149 

; good intention," the meaning is, from points not 
altogether of faith, — not, were distinguished not 
: only from points of faith, as a modern reader would 
[ be apt to understand it. 
, 45. Passions of some differ ejice. — The meaning 

• seems to be, of some discordance, somewhat con- 
. flicting passions. So we have, a few lines after, 
\ " poor Brutus, with himself at war." 

45. Coficeptions only proper to myself. — Thoughts 
and feelings relating exclusively to myself. [See 12.] 

, 45. 71? tny behaviotcrs. — We have lost this plural. 
But we still say, though with some difference of 

: meaning, both " My manner " and " My manners." 

45. Be yoii one. — There are various kinds of 

• beings or of existing. What is here meant is. Be 
in your belief and assurance ; equivalent to. Rest 

[ assured that you are. 

> 45. Nor construe a7iy further my neglect. — Fur- 
i ther is the word in the old' copies ; but Mr. Collier, 
; I observe, in his one volume edition prints farther. 
.' [Dyce and Hudson, further ; White, as elsewhere, 
; farther.'] It is sometimes supposed that, a.s, farther 
: answers to far, so ftirther answers to forth. But 
: far and forth, or fore, are really only different 
I forms of the same word, different corruptions or 
■ modernizations of the Saxon feor or forth. \_Far, 

both adjective and adverb, is from the Saxon feor. 
■• Further is from furthre, furthor, comparative of 
( forth, firth. Farther is a modern variation of 

further, suggested of course by^ar, and is the form 
t preferred by many writers to express distance. See 
I, Graham, English Synonymes (Amer. ed.), and note 
I the illustrative passages under these words.] 

46. / have 7nuch mistook your passion. — That 
is, the feeling under which you are suffering. Pa- 



150 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

tience and passion (both from the Latin patior) 
equally mean sufl'cring ; the notions of quiet and of 
agitation which they have severally acquired, and 
which have made the common signification of the 
one almost the opposite of that of the other, are 
merely accidental adjuncts. It may be seen, how- 
ever, from the use of the word passio7i here and in 
the pi^eceding speech, that its proper meaning was 
not so completely obscured and lost sight of in 
Shakespeare's day as it has come to be in ours, 
when it retains the notion of sufferi7tg only in two 
or three antique expressions ; such as, the iliac pas- 
sion^ and the passion of our Saviour (with Passion 
Week). — Though it is no longer accounted correct 
to say, I have mistook^ or I have wrote, such forms 
were in common use even till far on in the last cen- 
tury. Nor has the analogy of the reformed manner 
of expression been yet completely carried out. In 
some cases we have even lost the more correct form 
after having once had it : we no longer, for instance, 
say, I have stricken, as they did in Shakespeare's 
day, but only, I have struck. 

47. Btit by rejlection, etc. — The " other things" 
must, ajDparently, if we intei-pret the words with 
reference to their connection, be the reflectors or 
miri'ors spoken of by Cassius. Taken by itself, 
however, the expression might rather seem to mean 
that the eye discovers its own existence by its power 
of seeing other things. The verse in the present 
speech is thus ingeniously broken up in the original 

edition : — 

No Cassius : 
For the eye sees not it seUe but by reflection, 
By some other things. 

It may still be suspected that all is not quite right, 



L sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 151 

; and possibly some words have dropped out. " By 

r reflection, by some other things," is hardly Shake- 

l speare's style. It is not customary with him to em- 

}j ploy a word which he finds it necessary thus to 

p attempt immediately to amend, or supplement, or 

i- explain, by another. — It is remai'kable that in the 

- first line of this speech the three last Folios turn the 

! itself into himself. [White reads " thing."] 

t. There is a remarkable coincidence, both of thought 

|. and of expression, between what we have here and 

: the following passage in Troilus ajid Cressida^ iii. 

r 3: — 

^ Nor doth the eye itself, 

That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself. 

\ And it may be worth noting that these lines appear 
L only in the two original Quarto editions of the Play 

(1609), and are not in any of the Folios. 
J 48. Many of the best respect. — A lost phrase, no 
1 longer permissible even in poetry, although our only 
• modern equivalent is the utterly unpoetical " many 
persons of the highest respectability." So, again, in 
the present Play, we have in 779, " Thou art a fellow 
' of a good respect." 

" 50. Therefore.! good Brutus^ etc. — The eager, 
< impatient temper of Cassius, absorbed in his own 
' one idea, is vividly expressed by his thus continuing 
his argument as if without appearing to have even 
I heard Brutus's interrupting question ; for such is the 
: only interpretation which his therefore would seem 
; to admit of. 

50. And be not jealotts on me. — This is the read- 
ing of all the Folios ; and it has been restored to the 
text by Mr. Knight, who does not, however, produce 
any other example of the same syntax. The other 
■ modern editors generally, with the exception of Mr. 



152 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

Collier, have changed the on into of. [Dyce, Hud- 
son, and White have o«.] And eveiyvvhere else, I 
believe, Shakespeare writes jealous of. But there 
seems to be no natural reason, independently of usage, 
why the adjective might not take the one preposition 
as well as the other. They used to say enamoured 
on formerly. In the same manner, although the 
common form is to eat of yet in Macbeth^ i. 3, we 
have, as the words stand in the first thi^ee Folios, 
" Have we eaten on the insane root." So, although 
\y& commonly say " seized of" we have in Hamlet^ 
i. I, " All those his lands Which he stood seized <9«." 
And there is the familiar use of on for of in the 
popular speech, of which we have also an example 
in Hamlet in the Clown's " You lie out on't. Sir" 
(v. i). [Instances of on where we should use of 
are very numerous in Shakespeare ; as in the Tern- 
pest.1 i. 3 : — 

The ivy which had hid mj princely trunk, 
And sucked my verdure out ofi't. 

You taught me language ; and my profit on't 
Is, I know how to curse. 

and hast put thyself 

Upon this island as a spy, to win it 
From me, the lord ott't. 

So also in Macbeth^ iii. i : — 

Acquaint you with the perfect spy o' the time, 
The moment oji't. 

And V. I : — 

Banquo's buried ; he cannot come out on's grave. 

Compare i ^Sam. xxvii. 11.] 

50. Were I a comtnon laugher. - — Pope made this 
correction, in which he has been followed by all sub- 
sequent editors. In all the editions before his the 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 153 

reading is laughter ; and the necessity or pi'opriety 
of the change is perhaps not so unquestionable as it 
has been generally thought. Neither word seems to 
be perfectly satisfoctory. '• Were I a common 
laughter " might seem to derive some support from 
the expression of the same speaker in 561 : " Hath 
Cassius lived to be but mirth and laughter to his 
Brutus?" 

50. To stale with ordinary oaths iny love. — John- 
son, the only commentator who notices this expres- 
sion, interprets it as meaning, " to invite every new 
protester to my affection by the stale, or allurement, 
of customary oaths." But surely the more common 
sense of the word stale^ both the verb and the noun, 
involving the notion of insipid or of little worth or 

" estimation, is far more natural here. Who forgets 

■ Enobarbus's phrase in his enthusiastic description 

of Cleopatra (^Atzto7iy and Cleopatra., ii, 3), "Age 

cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite 

variety"? So in 497, '■'■Staled by other men." 

j [White follows Johnson. Hudson has anticipated 

I Craik in the explanation here given.] 

I 50. jhzd after scandal them. — We have lost the 

I verb scandal altogether, and we scarcely use the 

;| other form, to scandalize., except in the sense of the 

; Hellenistic tfxaviJaXi^w, to shock, to give offence. 

Both had formerly also the sense of to defame or 

traduce. 

51. What means this shouting? etc. — Here is 
the manner in which this passage is given in the 
original edition : — 

Bru. What means this Showting.' 
I do feare, the People choose Ccesar 
For then- King. 

Cassi. I, do you feare it? 



154 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

53. If it be aught toward. — All that the prosody 
demands here is that the word towardhe pronounced 
in two syllables ; the accent may be either on the 
first or the second. Toxvard when an adjective has, 
I believe, always the accent on the first syllable in 
Shakespeare ; but its customary pronunciation may 
have been otherwise in his day when it was a prepo- 
sition, as it is here. Milton, however, in the few 
cases in which he does not run the two syllables 
into one, always accents the first. And he uses both 
toward and towards. 

53. Set Ho7ior in one eye etc. — This passage 
has occasioned some discussion. Johnson's expla- 
nation is, " When Brutus first names Honour and 
Death, he calmly declares them indifferent ; but, as 
the image kindles in his mind, he sets Honour above 
life." [Coleridge says, " Warburton would read 
death for doth ; but I prefer the old text. There are 
here three things — the public good, the individual 
Brutus' honour, and his death. The latter two so 
balanced each other, that he could decide for the 
first by equipoise ; nay, — the thought growing, — 
that honour had more weight than death. That 
Cassius understood it as Warburton, is the beauty 
of Cassius as contrasted with Brutus."] It does not 
seem to be necessary to suppose any such change or 
growth either of the image or the sentiment. What 
Brutus means by saying that he will look upon 
Honor and Death indifterently, if they present 
themselves together, is merely that, for the sake of 
the honor, he will not mind the death, or the risk 
of death, by which it may be accompanied ; he will 
look as fearlessly and steadily upon the one as upon 
the other. He will think the honor to be cheaply 
purchased even by the loss of life ; that price will 



I 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 155 

never make him falter or hesitate in clutching at 
such a prize. He must be understood to set honor 
above life from the first ; that he should ever have 
felt otherwise for a moment would have been the 
height of the unheroic. — The convenient elisions 
z' the and d the have been almost lost to our modern 
English verse, at least in composition of the ordinary- 
regularity and dignity. Byron, however, has in a 
well-known passage ventured upon " Hived in our 
bosoms like the bag o' the bee." [Compare Tennyson 
(^Alariana) : " The blue fly^ sung i' the pane."] 

1^4. 2^our o7it%vard favotir. — A man's favor is 

his aspect or appearance. " In beauty," says Bacon, 

in his 43d Essay^ " that of favour is more than that 

of colour ; and that of decent and gracious motion 

more than that of favour." [Compare Proverbs^ 

xxxi. 30.] The word is now lost to us in that sense ; 

3- but we still use favored with well^ ill^ and perhaps 

i other qualifying terms, for featured or looking ; as in 

:; Ge7i. xli. 4, " The ill-favoured and lean-fleshed 

i< kine did eat up the seven well-favoured and fat kine." 

- Favor seems to be used {ox face from the same con- 

j fusion or natural transference of meaning between 

: the expressions for the feeling in the mind and the 

J outward indication of it in the look that has led to 

r the w^ord cozoitenance^ which commonly denotes the 

G latter, being sometimes employed, by a process the 

reverse of what we have in the case oi favor ^ in the 

sense of at least one modification of the former ; as 

when we speak of any one giving something his 

countenance^ or countenancing it. In this case, 

however, it ought to be observed that countenance 

has the meaning, not simply of favorable feeling or 

approbation, but of its expression or avowal. The 

French terms from which we have borrowed our 



v 



156 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

favor and countenance do not appear to have either 
of them undergone the transference of meaning 
which has befallen the English forms. But con- 
tenance^ which is still also used by the Fx-ench in 
the sense of material capacity, has drifted far away 
from its original import in coming to signify one's 
aspect or physiognomy. It is really also the same 
word with the French and English co?itme7ice and 
the Latin contuicntia. 

54. For my single self. — Here is a case in which 
we are still obliged to adhere to the old way of 
writing and printing my self. See 56. 

54. / had as lief. — Lief (sometimes wi'itten leef 
or leve), in the comparative liefer or lever., in the 
supei^lative liefest., is the Saxon leof., of the same 
meaning with our modern dear. The common 
modern substitute for lief is soo7i^ and for liefer^ 
sooner or rather., which last is properly the com- 
parative of rath., or rathe., signifying early., not 
found in Shakespeare, but used in one expression — 
" the rathe primrose " {^Lycidas., 142) — by Milton, 
who altogether ignores lief. Lief., liefer., and lief- 
est., are all common in Spenser. Shakespeare has 
lief pretty frequently, but never liefer ; and liefest 
occurs only in the Second Part of King Hetiry VL, 
where, in iii. i, we have " My liefest liege." In 
the same Play, too (i. i), we have "Mine alderlief- 
est sovereign," meaning dearest of all. " This beau- 
tiful word," says Mr. Knight, " is a Saxon compound. 
Alder., of all, is thus frequently joined with an 
adjective of the superlative degree, — as alderfrst., 
alderlast." But it cannot be meant that such combi- 
nations are frequent in the English of Shakespeare's 
day. They do occur, indeed, in a preceding stage 
of the language. Alder is a corrupted or at least 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 157 

modified form of the Saxon genitive plural aller, or \ 
allre; it is that strengthened by the interposition of ■ 
a supporting d (a common expedient). Aller, with \ 
the same signification, is still familiar in German \ 
compounds. — The effect and construction o? lief in l 
Middle English may be seen in the following exam- | 
pies from Chaucer : " For him was lever ban at I 
his beddes head " ( C. T. Pro. 295), that is, To him I 
it was dearer to have {lever a monosyllable, beddes \ 

a dissyllable) ; " Ne, though I say it, I n' am not lefe I 

to gabbe " (C. T". 3510), that is, I am not given to 1 

prate ; " I hadde lever dien ," that is, I should hold 
it prefera'Sle to die. And Chaucer has also " Al be 
him loth or lefe" (C T. 1839), ^^''^^ is, Whether it 
be to him agreeable or disagreeable ; and " For lefe 
ne loth" (C. T. 13062), that is, For love nor loath- 
ing. — We may remark the evidently intended con- 
nection in sound between the liej" and the live, or 
rather the attraction by which the one woi*d has , 
naturally produced or evoked the other. \_Had lever 
is rightly explained here, but had rather (see 57) is 
a very different phrase ; pi'obably an expansion of 
Fd rather. Had came to be regarded as a sort of 
auxiliary for such phrases. Had rather and had 
better have the sanction of good English usage, 
though many of the writers of grammars tell us that 
we should say "ujotild rather, etc., instead. The 
latter makes sense, of course, but the more idiomatic J 

expression is not to be condemned. See on 468. — / 
Tennyson uses rathe: "The men of rathe and riper i 
years." The following are examples of rather in | 
the sense of earlier, sooner : — f 

Wolde God this reljke had come rather ! Hey-wood. f 

And it arose ester and ester, till it arose full este ; and 
rather and rather. Warkwortk. 



^1 



158 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

Sejnt Edward the Martyr was his sone 
Bj his rathere wyf (i. e. his former wife). 

Robt. of Gloucester. 

he sholde 

Han lost his regne rather than he wolde. 

Chaucer, C. T. 10176. 

The rather lambes bene starved with cold. 

Spenser, Shep. Cal. Feb. 83. 

The superlative rathest is found in Chaucer, 
Compl. of Bl. Kt. 428 : — 
Accept be now rathest unto grace.] 
54. [ The troubled Tiber chafing. — Chafe is from 
the Latin calefacere., through the French echauffer 
and chauffer. The steps by which the word has 
acquired its modern meaning. seem to be, first, to 
warm ; then, to warm by rubbing ; and finally, to 
rub generally, in either a literal or a figurative sense. 
See 2 Sam. xvii. 8. See also The Taming of the 
Shrew., i. 2 : — 
Have I not heard the sea puffed up with winds 
Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat .-' 

Fain would I go chafe his paly lips 

With twenty thousand kisses. 2 Henry VI. iii. 2. 

What, are you chafed } 
Ask God for temperance; — Henry VIII. i. i. 

Do not chafe thee, cousin ; 

And you, Achilles, let these threats alone. 

Trail, and Cress, iv. 5. 

For other examples illustrating Shakespeare's use 
of the word, see Mrs. Clarke's Concordance.^ 

54. CcBsar said to me, etc. — In the Second Folio 
it is " Cassar sales to me." And three lines lower 
down it is there " Accounted as I was." Other- 
en^ors of that copy in the same speech are " chasing 
with her shores," and " He had a Feaher when he 
was in Spaine." 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 159 

54. [ Wzi/i lusty sinews. — Lzisty, vigorous, full of 
energy, is " derived from the Saxon lust in its pri- 
maiy sense of eager desire, or intense longing, indi- 
cating a corresponding intensity of bodily vigor." 
See yudges 111. 39. — The Scotch hcsty had the sense 
of beautiful, handsome. Gawin Douglas translates 
Virgil's " Sunt mihi bis septem praestanti corpora 
nymphae" (yEn. i. 71) by " I have, quod sche, lusty 
lady is fourtene."] 

54. Arrive the point proposed. — Arrive w^ithout 
the now indispensable at or i7i is found also in the 
Third Part of King Henry VI. (v. 3) : — 

Those powers that the queen 
Hath raised in Gallia have arrived our coast. 

And Milton has the same construction i^P. L. ii. 
409): — 

Ere he arrive 
The happy isle. 

54. /, as y^neasi etc. — This commencement of 
the sentence, although necessitating the not strictly 
grammatical repetition of the first personal pronoun, 
is in fine rhetorical accordance with the character of 
the speaker, and vividly expresses his eagerness to 
give prominence to his own part in the adventure. 
Even the repetition (of which, by the by, we have 
another instance in this same speech) assists the 
effect. At the same time, it. may just be noted that 
the / here is not printed differently in the origi- 
nal edition from the adverb of aflSrmation in "-4y» 
and that tongue of his," a few lines lower down. 
Nor are the two words anywhere distinguished. It 
may be doubted whether Macbeth's great exclama- 
tion (ii. 2) should not be printed (as it is by Steevens) 
'' Wake Duncan with thy knocking : Ay, would thou 
couldst !" (instead of " I would," as usually given). 



m 

i6o Philological Commentary. [act i. 

54. T/te old Anchises^ etc. — This is a line of six 
feet ; but it is quite different in its musical character 
from what is called an Alexandrine, such as rounds 
off the Spenserian stanza, and also frequently makes 
the second line in a rhymed couplet or the third in a 
triplet. It might perhaps be going too far to say 
that a proper Alexandrine is inadmissible in blank 
verse. There would seem to be nothing in the prin- 
ciple of blank verse opposed to the occasional em- 
ployment of the Alexandrine ; but the custom of our 
modern poetry excludes such a variation even from 
dramatic blank verse ; and unquestionably by far the 
greater number of the lines in Shakespeare which 
have been assumed by some of his editors to be 
Alexandrines are only instances of the oi'dinary 
heroic line with the very common peculiarity of cer- 
tain superfluous short syllables. That is all that we 
have here, — the ordinary heroic line overflowing its 
bounds, — which, besides that great excitement will 
excuse such irregularities, or even demand them, 
admirably pictures the emotion of Cassius, as it 
were acting his feat over again as he relates it, — 
with the shore the two were making for seeming, in 
their increasing efforts, to retire before them, — and 
panting with his remembered toil. 

54. His cozuard lips didfroin their colour Jly. — 
There can, I think, be no question that Warburton is 
right in holding that we have here a pointed allusion to 
a soldier flying from his colors. The lips would never 
otherwise be made to fly from their color, instead of 
their color from them. The figure is quite in Shake- 
speare's manner and spirit. 

54, Did lose his lustre. — There is no personifica- 
tion here. His was formerly neuter as well as mas- 
culine, or the genitive of It as well as of He; and 



sc. u.] Julius C^sar. i6i 

his lustre, meaning the lustre of the eye, is the same 
form of expression that we have in the texts, "The 
fruit-tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is. 
in itself" {^Gen. i. ii) ; '•'•It shall bruise thy head, 
and thou shalt bruise his heel" {Gen. iii. 15) ; "If 
the salt have lost his savour" {Matt. v. 13, O-nd Luke 
xiv. 34) ; " If the salt have lost his saltness " {Mark 
ix. 50 ;) " When they were past the first and the 
second ward, they came unto the iron gate that lead- 
eth unto the city, which opened to them of his own 
accord " {Acts xii. 10) ; " His throne was like the 
fiery flame, and his wheels as burning fire " {Dan. 
vii. 9) ; and others. The word Its does not occur 
in the authorized translation of the Bible ; its place 
is always supplied either by His or by Thereof. 
So again, in the present Play, in 522, we have 
" That every nice offence should bear his comment ; " 
and in Antony and Cleopatra, v. i, "The heart 
where mine his thoughts did kindle." One of the 
most curious and decisive examples of the neuter his 
z occurs in Coriolamis, i. i : — 

/V [the belly] tauntingly replied 
To the discontented members, the mutinous parts, 
I That envied At's receipt. 

Its, howev«.i, is found in Shakespeare. There is 

-one instance in Measure for Measure, i. 2, where 

\ Lucio's remark about coming to a composition with 

i the King of Hungary draws the reply, " Heaven 

\i grant us its peace, but not the King of Hungary's." 

' The its here, it may be observed, has the emphasis. 

■ It is printed without the apostrophe both in the First 

j and in the Second Folio. But the most remarkable 

I of the Plays in regard to this particular is probably 

The Winter's Tale. Here, in i. 2, we have so many 

as tliree instances in a single speech of Leontes : — 

II 



II 



1 63 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

How sometimes Nature will betray it's folly? 
It's tendernesse ? and make it selfe a Pastime 
To harder bosomes ? Looking on the Lynes 
Of my Boj'es face, me thoughts I did requoyle 
Twentie three yeeres, and saw my selfe vn-breech'd, 
In my greene Veluet Coat ; my Dagger muzzel'd, 
Least it should bite it's Master, and so proue 
(As Ornaments oft do's) too dangerous. 

So stands the passage in the Fii-st Folio. Nor does 
the new pronoun here appear to be a peculiarity of 
expression characteristic of the excited Sicilian king ; 
a little while after in the same scene we have the 
same form from the mouth of Camillo : — 

Be plainer with me, let me know my Trespas 
By it's owne visage. 

And again, in iii. 3, we have Antigonus, when about 
to lay down the child in Bohemia, observing that he 
believes it to be the wish of Apollo that 

it should heere be laide 
(Either for life, or death) vpon the earth 
Of it's right Father. 

Nor is this all. There are two other passages of 
the same Play in which the modern editors also give 
us its; but in these the original text has it. The 
first is in ii. 3, where Leontes, in directing Antigonus 
to carry away the " female bastard" to some foreign 
land, enjoins him that he there leave it 

(Without more mercy) to it owne protection. 
The other is in iii. 2, where Hermione's words stand 
in both the Fii'st and Second Folio, — 

The innocent milke in it most innocent mouth. 

It is a mistake to assume, as the modern editors 

do, that it in these instances is a misprint for its: 

Dr. Guest {Phil. Pro. 1. 2S0) has observed that in 

the dialects of the North-Western Counties formerly 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 163 

it was sometimes used for its; and that, accordingly, 
we have not only in Shakespeare's Kitig Jofat^ ii. i, 
" Goe to yt grandame, child and it gran- 
dame will giue yt a plumb," but in Ben Jonson's 
Silefzt Woman, ii. 3, " It knighthood and it friends." 
So in Lear, i. 4, we have in a speech of the Fool, 
" For you know, Nunckle, the Hedge-Sparrow fed 
the Cuckoo so long, that it's had it head bit off by it 

, young " (that is, that it has had its head, — not that 
it had its head, as the modern editors give the 
passage, after the Second Folio, in which it stands, 
" that it had its head bit off by it young " ). This 
use of it is still familiar in the popular speech of the 
West Riding of Yorkshire, and even in the English 
of some parts of Ireland. So, long before its was 
generally received, we have it j'e//' commonly printed 
in two words, evidently under the impression that 
it was a possessive, of the same syntactical force with 
the pronouns in my self, your self, her self. And 
even now we do not write itsself. Formerly, too, 
according to Dr. Guest, they often said even " The 

, King wife," etc., for " The King's wife." So he 
holds that in such modern phrases as " The idea of 

; a thing being abstracted,'" or " of it being abstracted," 

" tki?io- and it are genitives, for thinsfs and its. 

\ We have it again in Lear, iv. 2 : " that nature 
which contemnes it origin." The passage is not in 
the Folios ; but the First Qiiarto has ith, and the 

'' Second it, for the its of the modern text. 

There is also one passage in our English Bible, 
Levit. XXV. 5, in which the reading of the original 
edition is " of it own accord." The modern i-eprints 
give " its." [In the Geneva Bible, 1579, we have 
" it ovvne accorde " in Acts xii. 10.] 
Dr. Guest asserts that its was used generally by 



m 



164 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

the dramatists of the age to which the avithorized 
version of the Bible belongs, and also by many of 
their contemporaries. Dr. Trench, in his English^ 
Past and Present^ doubts whether Milton has once 
admitted it into Paradise Lost^ " although, when 
that was composed, others frequently allowed it." 
The common authorities give us no help in such 
matters as this ; no notice is taken of the word Its 
either in Todd's Verbal Itidex to Milton, or in Mrs. 
Clarke's elaborate Concordance to Shakespeare. 
But Milton does use Its occasionally ; as, e. g. {P. 
L, i. 254), "The mind is its own place, and in 
itself;" and {P. L. iv. 813), "No flilsehood can 
endure Touch of celestial temper, but returns Of 
force to its own likeness." [See also IIyf?z7i on the 
Nativity^ 106.] Generally, however, he avoids the 
word, and easily manages to do so by personifying 
most of his substantives ; it is only when this cannot 
be done, that he reluctantly accepts the services of the 
little farve7iu monosyllable. 

Mr. Singer, in a note to his edition of the Essays 
and Wisdom of the Ancients^ p. 200, seems to inti- 
mate that its is nowhere used by Bacon. Like 
Shakespeare and odier writers of the time, he has 
frequently his in the neuter. 

Dr. Trench notices the fact of the occurrence of 
its in Rowley's Poems as decisive against their gen- 
uineness. He observes, also, that " Dryden, when, 
in one of his fault-finding moods with the great men 
of the preceding generation, he is taking Ben Jonson 
to task for general inaccuracy in his English dic- 
tion, among other counts of his indictment, quotes 
this line of Catiline^ ' Though heaven should speak 
with all his wrath at once ; ' and proceeds, ' Heaven 
is ill syntax with his.^ " This is a curious evi- 



sc. n.] Julius C^sar. 165 

dence of how completely the recent rise of its had 
come to be generally forgotten in a single genera- 
tion. 

The need of it, indeed, must have been much felt. 
If it was convenient to have the two forms He and 
It in the nominative, and Him and It in the other 
^ cases, a similar distinction between the Masculine 
and the Neuter of the genitive must have been 
equally required for perspicuous expression. Even 
the personifying power of his was impaii-ed by its 
1 being applied to both genders. Milton, consequent- 
' ly, it may be noticed, prefers wherever it is possible 
1" the feminine to the masculine personification, as if 
i he felt that the latter was always obscure from the 
I' risk of the his being taken for the neuter pronoun. 
' Thus we have {^P. L. i. 733) " The ascending pile 
; Stood fixed her stately height ; " (ii. 4) '• The gor- 
't geous East with richest hand Showers on her kings ; " 
j' (ii. 175) " What if all Her stores were opened, and 
this firmament Of hell should spout her cataracts of 
' fire;" (ii. 271) "This desert soil Wants not her 
hidden lustre ; " (ii. 584) " Lethe, the river of 
oblivion, rolls ^t^r watery labyrinth;" (ix. ii'b3) 
""The fig-tree . . . spreads //er arms ; " ( Go^z. 396) 
" Beauty . . . had need . . . To save her blossoms 
< and defend her fruit ; " ( Com. 468) " The soul grows 
I clotted . . . till she quite lose The divine property 
^ of her first being ; " and so on, continually and 
' habitually, or upon system. His masculine personi- 
fications are comparatively rare, and are only ven- 
' tured upon either where he does not require to use 
the pronoun, or where its gender cannot be mis- 
i taken. 

• Milton himself, however, nowhere, I believe, uses 
his in a neuter sense. He felt too keenly the annoy- 



i66 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

ance of such a sense of it always coming in the way 
to spoil or prevent any other use he might have 
made of it. The modern practice is the last of three 
distinct stages through which the language passed as 
to this matter in the course of less than a century. 
First, we have his serving for both masculine and 
neuter ; secondly, we have his restricted to the mas- 
culine, and the neuter left with hardly any recognized 
form ; thirdly, we have the defect of the second stage 
remedied by the frank adoption of the heretofore re- 
jected its. And the most curious thing of all in the 
histoiy of the word its is the extent to which, before 
its recognition as a word admissible in serious com- 
position, even the occasion for its employment was 
avoided or eluded. This is very remarkable in 
Shakespeare. The very conception which we ex- 
press by its probably does not occur once in his 
works for ten times that it is to be found in any 
modern writer. So that. we may say the invention, 
or adoption, of this form has changed not only our 
English style, but even our manner of thinking. 

The Saxon personal pronoun was, in the Nomina- 
tive singular, He for the Masculine, Heo for the 
Feminine, and Hit for the Neuter. He we still 
retain ; for Heo we have substituted She^ apparently 
a modification of Seo., the Feminine of the Demon- 
strative (6"^, Seo^ Thaet) ; Hit we have converted 
into It (though the aspirate is still often heai'd in the 
Scottish dialect). The Genitive was Hire for the 
Feminine (whence our modern Her), and His both 
for the Masculine and the Neuter. So also the mod- 
ern German has ihr for the Feminine, and only one 
form, sein, for both the Masculine and the Neuter. 
But in the inflection of this single form the two gen- 
ders in Our ancient English were distinguished both 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 167 

in the Nominative and in the Accusative, whereas in 
German they are distinguished in the Accusative 
only. They are the same in the Genitive and Dative 
in both languages. 

It is to be understood, of course, that the its^ how- 
I ever convenient, is quite an irregular formation : the 
. t of it (originally hit) is merely the sign of the neuter 
; gender,* which does not enter into the inflection, 
: leaving the natural genitive of that gender (Jii^ hi-s) 
■ substantially identical with that of the masculine (Jie., 
: he-s^ hi-s). 

: \_Its and its are both found before the end of the 
• 1 6th century, though infrequently. 

Spontaneamente, willingly, naturally, . . . for its owne 
> sake. Florio, A Worlde of JVordes, 1598. 

The same writer uses ifs in "^ The Epistle Dedi- 
' catorie " of his translation of Montaigne's £ssays, 
f and several times in other parts of the work. 
I In Shakespeare (Folio, 1623) eV^ occurs but once, — 
^ in the passage from Measure for Measure., quoted 
\ by Craik. Its is found nine times. The instances 
' not given above are the following : — 

My trust 
Like a good parent, did beget of him 
\ A falsehood in ifs contrarie, as great 

J As my trust was. Tempest, i. 2. 

Allaying both their fury, and my passion 

With ifs sweet ayre. Te?npest, i. 2. 

As milde and gentle as the Cradle-babe 
Dying with mothers dugge betweene ifs lips. 

2 Henry VI. iii. 2. 

* [Some philologists — Prof. Key among the number, I 
Tjelieve — are disposed to consider the -t as belonging to the 
^root.] 



1 68 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

Each following day 
Became the next dayes master, till the last 
Made former Wonders, ifs. Henry VIII. i. i. 

It^ or yi, possessive, is found in the Folio of 1623, 
in fourteen passages. The following are not men- 
tioned by Craik : — 

But Nature should bring forth 
Of t'i owne kinde, all foyzon, all abundance 
To feed my innocent people. Tempest, ii. i. 

It hath it originall from much greefe ; — 

2 Henry IV. i. 2. 
And all her Husbandry doth lye on heapes. 
Corrupting in it owne fertilitie. Henry V. v. 2. 

And yet I warrant it had vpon it brow, etc. 

Romeo atid Juliet., i. 3. 

Feeling in it selfe 
A lacke of Timons ayde, hath since withall 
Of it owne fall. Timon of Athens, v. i. 

It lifted vp it head, and did addresse 

It selfe to motion, like as it would speake. Hamlet, i. 2. 

This doth betoken 
The Coarse they follow, did with disperate hand, 
Fore do it owne life. Hamlet^ v. i. 

It is iust so high as it is, and mooues with it owne organs. 
Antony and Cleopatra, ii. 7. 

Of it owne colour too. Antony and Cleopatra, ii. 7. 

The Handmaides of all Women, or more truely 
Woman it pretty selfe. Cymbeline, iii. 4. 

This possessive it is found in Udal's JBrasmus, 
1548, and in the form kit even earlier, as in the 
Anturs of Art her : — 

For I wille speke with the sprete, 
And of hit woe wille I wete, 
Gif that I may hit bales bete. 

For additional examples see Eastwood and Wright's j 
Bible Word-Book. 



sc. II.] Julius C-(Esar. 169 

White, in a note on " ifs folly," etc.. Winter's 
Tale, i. 2 (vol. v. p. 385 of his edition of the poet), 
says, " It appears that the possessive pronoun its, in 
its consolidated form, was not know^n in Shakespeare's 
time, and the extended form it's was only just coming 
into use." In vol. i. (the last volume published), 
Preface, p. xiii., after remarking that "no edition 
is worthy of confidence, or, indeed, to be called an 
edition, the text of which has not been compared, 
word by word, with that of the Folio of 1623 and 
the precedent Qiiarto copies ; " and that " a notice 
of even the slightest deviation from the text of 1623 
in this edition has been deemed obligatory ; " and 
that " as a guarantee of accuracy the indication of 
these trifling variations has its value ; " he goes on 
to say, " Careful literal conformity to the old text, 
except in its corruptions and irregularities, has, how- 
ever, a greater value than this of being a guarantee 
of exactness. For instance, in these passages in 
Ha7nlet (the two with it possessive given above), 
and in this from Lear ('The hedge-sparrow,' etc.), 
the use of it in the possessive sense is not only a trait 
of the time, but, even if there were no other evidence, 
is enough to show that Hamlet and Lear were 
written before The Winter's Tale, in which we find 
' ifs folly and it's tenderness,' and before Heizry 
VIII., in the first scene of which we have, ' made 
former wonders its' The last passage affords the 
earliest instance known, I believe, of the use of the 
neuter possessive pronoun without the apostrophe. 
And yet, until the appearance of the present edition 
of Shakespeare's works, its was given indiscrimi- 
nately throughout the text of all editions." 

If White's variations from the Folio of 1623 in the 
case of this little word its or it's are to be judged by 



170 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

the rule which he himself lays down,* his edition is 
not " worthy of confidence." He has its in seven 
places where the Folio of 1623 has either ifs or it 
{^Tefnp. i. 2, bis; R. & J.u '^\ A. & C. ii. 7? ^w/ 
Heft. V. V. 2; 2 //en. V/. iii. 2), but in the passage 
from //enry FT//., quoted in his Preface as the 
eai'liest instance of its., he has zVi-, which is correct. 
In Meas. for Meas. (i. 2), the date of which 
he makes ten years earlier than //enry FT//., he 
has its., which is also correct. As we have seen, 
this last is the one instance of its in the Folio. In 
Z'^iW^. ii. i,also, White has its., but corrects it in 
the "Additional Notes" prefixed to his last (First) 
volume. 

I hardly need add that no argument in regard to 
the date of the different Plays can be based upon the 
occurrence of these various forms of the possessive 
its. We find all three in some of the earliest Plays, 
two different forms in the very same Play, and ifs 
in //enry F///., which, according to White, is the 
latest of the Plays. The simple fact is, that Shake- 
speare wrote in the early part of that transitional 
period when its was beginning to displace his and 
her as the possessive of zV, and that just at that time 
the forms it and ifs were more common than its., 
though this last was occasionally used even before 
the end of the sixteenth century. 

* [I do not think that they should be thus judged ; and 
I am very sure that accidental variations from the text of 
1623 are bv no means so frequent in White's Shakespeare 
as one might infer from the examples here quoted. Nor 
are the notes on this word to be taken as a fair sample of 
the general character of White's annotations, which, with 
rare exceptions, deserve, I doubt not, all the commendation 
they have received from critics " older in practice, ablei 
than myself to make conditions."] 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 171 

Besides the authorities aheady mentioned, see 

Marsh, Lect. on Eng. Lang-., First Series, p. 397.] 

54, ^^. — Aitd bear the palm alone. — Another 

general shout I — Two hemistichs or broken lines 

thus following one another are not necessarily to be 

regarded as prosodically connected, any more than 

if they were several sentences asunder. The notion 

that two such consecutive fragments were always 

: intended by Shakespeare to make a complete verse, 

. has led the modern editors, inore especially Steevens, 

into a great deal of uncalled-for chopping and tinker- 

'■ ing of the old text. 

56. But in ourselves. — In the original edition it 
is divided " our selves," exactly as " our stars " in the 
-preceding line. And so always with our self , your 
'-self, her self, my self, thy self, and also it self, but 
'never with himself or themselves. See 54. 
' 56. What should be in that CcesarP — A form of 
'speech now gone out. It was a less blunt and direct 
-way of saying What is there ? or What may there 
be? These more subtle and delicate modes of ex- 
pression, by the use of the subjunctive [or potential, 
pas some call it] for the indicative, and of the past for 
^he present, which characterize not only the Greek 
■and Latin languages, but even the German, have for 
athe greater part perished in our modern English. 
The deep insight and creative force — the " great 
'creating nature " — which gave birth to our tongue 
■has dried up under the benumbing touch of the logic 
>by which it has been trained and cultivated. 

•56. More than yours. — See Prolegoniena, Sect. 
\y. p. 27. \_Than and thejt are different forms of the 
same word, often used interchangeably by old wri- 
ters. See Richardson^ s Diet., etc. Milton has than 
;jfor then in the Hymn on the Nativity, 88.] 



m 



172 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

^6. Beco77ie the mouth as well. — Always asivell^ 
as one word, in the First Folio. 

56. The breed of noble bloods. — We scarcely now 
use this plural. Shakespeare has it several times; 
as afterwards in 644, " I know young bloods look for 
a time of rest ; " in Much Ado About JVothhig, iii. 
3, where Boracio remarks how giddily fashion " turns 
about all the hot bloods between fourteen and five 
and thirty;" in The Winter's Tale, i. i, where 
Leontes says, " To mingle friendship far is mingling 
bloods;" in King- John., ii. i, where Philip of 
France, to the boast of John before the walls of 
Anglers that he brings as witnesses to his right and 
title " twice fifteen thousand hearts of English breed," 
replies {aside) that 

As many and as well-born bloods as those 
Stand in his face to contradict his claim. 

56. That her wide walls encompassed but one 
man. — The old reading is " wide walks." Despite 
the critical canon which warns us against easy or 
obvious amendments, it is impossible not to believe 
that we have a misprint here. What Rome's wide 
walks may mean is not obvious ; still less, how she 
could be encompassed by her walks., however wide. 
[Hudson has walks; Collier, Dyce, and White, 
wallsr\ 

56. Now is it Rome indeed, and room enough. — 
Shakespeare's pronunciation of Rome seems to have 
been Room. Besides the passage before us we have 
afterwards in the present Play (367) " No Rome of 
safety for Octavius yet; " and in King John, iii. i, 
" That 1 have rootn with Rome to curse a while." 
In the First Part of King Henry the Sixth, it is 1 
true, we have the other pronunciation ; there (iii. 2), ; 
the Bishop of Winchester having exclaimed " Rome 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 173 

' shall remedy this," Warwick replies '•'•Roam thither, 
then." This little fact is not without its significance 
in reference to the claim of that Play to be laid at 
Shakespeare's door. [Staunton quotes Prime, Com- 

; mentary on Galatians^ p. 122, 1587 : " Rome is too 
narrow a Room for the church of God."] 

56. But one only man. — In the original text 
, " but one onely man," probably indicating that the 
. pronunciation of the numeral and of the first syllable 
; of the adverb was the same. 

57. That you do love me, lajn not king" Jealous. — 
\ I am nowise jealous, doubtful, suspicious, in regard 
i to its being the fact that you love me. This seems 

to be the grammatical resolution of a construction 

which, like many similar ones familiar to the freer 

spirit of the language two centuries ago, would now 

scarcely be ventured upon. 

5 57. I have some aim. — Aim., in old French eyme, 

,j esme, and estme, is the same word with estee??i (from 

J the Latin aestimatio and aestimare), and should 

;' therefore signify properly a judgment or conjecture 

; of the mind, which is very neai'ly its meaning here. 

|, We might now say, in the same sense, I have some 

L notion. In modern English the word has acquired 

[ the additional meaning of an intention to hit, or 

I catch, or in some other way attain, that to which the 

. view is directed. It does not seem impossible that 

^ the French name for the loadstone, aitfiatit., may be 

\i from the same root, although it has usually been con- 

•^ sidered to be a corruption of adamant. A ship's 

reckonings are called in French estimes, which is 

undoubtedly the same word with our aims. In the 

French of the early part of the sixteenth century we 

find esme and es77ik, (or esmez, as it was commonly 

written) confounded with the totally different aimer^ 



1 74 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

to love. Rabelais, for instance, writes bien aymez 
for bien esmez^ well disposed. See Duchat's Note 
on liv. i., ch. 5. 

57. 1^01' this present. — So in the Absolution^ 
" that those things may please him which we do at 
this present." This expression, formerly in universal 
use and good repute, now remains only a musty law 
phrase, never admitted into ordinary composition 
except for ludicrous effect. 

57. So zvith love I might entreat you. — This 
form of expression is still preserved both in our 
own language and in German. Thus (^jfohn i. 25), 
" Warum taufest du denn, so du nicht Christus 
bist?" or, "So Gott will" (If God please). The 
conjunction thus used is commonly said to be equiv- 
alent to if. But so, according to Home Tooke {D. 
of P. 147), is merely the Moeso-Gothic demonstra- 
tive pronoun, and signifies properly this or that. 
In German, though commonly, as with ourselves, 
only an adverb or conjunction, it may still be also 
used pronominally ; as Das Buch, so ihr tnir gege- 
ben habt (the book which you gave me). Upon 
this theory, all that so will perform in such a pas- 
sage as the present will be to mark and separate the 
clause which it heads by an emphatic introductory 
compendium — That (or this), namely, that with 
love I might, etc. ; and the fact of the statement in 
the clause being a supposition, or assumption, will 
be left to be inferred. The First Folio points, blun- 
deringly, " I would not so (with love I might in- 
treat you)." 

57. Chetv tipon this. — We have lost the Saxon 
word in this application ; but we retain the meta- 
phor, only translating chew into the Latin equiva- 
lent, ruminate. 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 175 

57. Bi'utus had rather be . . . than to repute. 
[See on had as lief^ 54.] The to before refute is, 
apparently, to be defended, if at all, upon the ground 
that had rather is equivalent in import to -would 
■prefer^ and that, although it is only an auxiliary 
before be a villager^ it is to be taken as a common 
verb before to repztte. It is true that, as wo. have 
seen (i), the to was in a certain stage of the lan- 
guage sometimes inserted, sometimes omitted, both 
after auxiliaries and after other verbs ; but that was 
hardly the style of Shakespeare's age. We certainly 
could not now say " I had rather to repute ; " and I 
do not suppose that any one would have directly 
so written or spoken then. The irregularity is soft- 
ened or disguised in the passage before us by the 
intervening words. 

57. Under these hard conditions as. — This is 
tlie reading in all the old copies ; these — as where 
we should now say such — as, or those — that. So 
in 129 we have " To such a man That is no fleering 
tell-tale." Although those — as, or that — as, is 
common, however, these — as is certainly at any 
rate unusual. I should suspect the true reading to 
be " under those hard conditions." See 44. 

57. Is like. — This form of expression is not 
quite, but nearly, gone out. We now commonly 
say is likely. 

58. / am glad that 7ny weak words. — In this 
first line of the speech of Cassitis and the last of the 
preceding speech of Brutus we have two hemistichs, 
having no prosodical connection. [See 54, 55.] 

Re-enter Caesar. — In the original text it is Enter. 

60. What hath proceeded. — That is, simply, 
happened, — a sense which the verb has now lost. 

61. I will do so, etc. — Throughout the Play, the 



176 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

ius of Casshcs (as also of Lucilius) makes some- 
times only one syllable, sometimes two, as here. 

62. Bemg crossed in conference^ etc. — If the 
being and conference be fully enunciated, as they 
will be in any but the most slovenly reading, we 
have two supernumerary syllables in this line, but 
both so short that neither the mechanism nor the 
melody of the verse is at all impaired by them. 

65. Let 7ne have men abottt me^ etc. — Some of 
the expressions in this speech are evidently sug- 
gested by those of North in his translation of Plu- 
tarch's Life of Csesar : " When Caesar's friends com- 
plained unto him of Antonius and Dolabella, that 
they pretended [i. e. intended'\ some mischief to- 
wards him, he answered. As for those fat men and 
smooth-combed heads (quoth he), I never reckon 
of them ; but these pale-visaged and carrion-lean 
people, I fear them most ; meaning Brutus and Cas- 
sius." 

65. Stick as sleep d nights, — That is, on nights ; 
as d clock is on clock, and also as aboard is on board, 
aside on side, aloft on loft, alive in life, etc. In the 
older stages of the language the meanings that we 
now discriminate by on and in are confused, and are 
both expressed by an,, on,, un,, in,, or in composition 
by the contractions a or 0. The form here in the 
original text is a-nights. [The prefix a- or an- is 
essentially identical with on-. An-,, with its abbrevi- 
ation «-, is said to characterize the dialects of the 
southern counties of England, while on- and o- mark 
the northern dialects. In many instances the two 
forms remain side by side, as in aboard and on 
board,, afire and on fire,, aground and on ground 
(2 Henry IV. iv. 4), a high {^Richard III. iv. 4) 
and on high,, afoot and on foot,, asleep and on sleep 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. lyy 

(Ac^s xiii. 36), aded and on bed (Chaucer, C. T. 
6509), alive and on live (C T. 55^7) • Compare 
also Saxon forms like on--iVeg and a-weg^ away. In 
ado^ the a- is equivalent to to. So in a-xvork (2 
Henry IV. iv. 3 ; 2 Ckron. ii. 18). See Bible 
Word-Book., Wedgxvood., Nares., etc.] 

65. Tond Cass ills. — Though yond is no longer in 
use, we still have both yon and yonder. The d is 
probably no proper part of the word, but has been 
added to strengthen the sound, as in the word sound 
itself (from the Fi-ench son)., and in many other 
cases. [As we have in Saxon geo7id = ilhtc, and 
no yon., it is not likely that yond has gained a d, but 
rather that yon has lost one. It may be that yon is 
an old form which has come down to us orally, 
though not found in literature. The root is the 
same as in the Germcin j'ener, Gothic j'ains.'^ 

66. Well give7t. — Although we no longer say 
absolutely tvell or ill given (for well or ill disposed), 
we still say given to study, given to drinking, etc. 

67. [ Would he were fatter. — White prints 
'would^ as he does again in 218, and as some other 
editors have done in these and similar passages. 
But even if the would is equivalent to / would., 
there is no reason for the apostrophe, which is used 
only when a part of the word has been cut off, as 
in 7 is for it is.'\ 

67. Tet., if my name. — A poetic idiom for " Yet, 
if I, bearing the name I do." In the case of Caesar 
the name was even more than the representative and 
most precise expression of the person ; it was that 
in which his power chiefly resided, his renown. 
Every reader of Milton will remember the magnifi- 
cent passage {^P. L. ii. 964), — 
12 



178 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

Behold the throne 
Of Chaos, and his dark pavilion spread 
Wide on the wasteful deep ; with him enthroned 
Sat sable-vested Night, eldest of things. 
The consort of his reign ; and by them stood 
Orcus and Ades, and the dreaded natne 
Of Demogorgon. 

67. Liable to fear. — The word liable has been 
somewhat restricted in its application since Shake- 
speare's time. We should scarcely now speak of a 
person as liable to fear. And see 248 for anothei 
application of it still farther away from our present 
usage. 

67. \^He hears no music. — Compare Mer. of Ven. 
V. I, " The man that hath not music in himself," etc.] 

67. Siich men as Jie^ etc. — In this and the fol- 
lowing line we have no fewer than three archaisms, 
words or forme which would not and could not be 
used by a writer of the present day : be (for are), 
at hearfs ease (for in ease of mind), whiles (for 
while). It would be difficult to show that the lan- 
guage has not in each of these instances lost some- 
thing which it would have been the better for 
retaining. But it seems to be a law of every lan- 
guage which has become thoroughly subdued under 
the dominion of grammar, that perfectly synony- 
mous terms cannot live in it. If varied forms are 
not saved by having distinct senses or functions as- 
signed to each, they are thrown off as superfluities 
and encumbrances. One is selected for use, and 
the others are reprobated, or left to perish from 
mere neglect. The logic of this no doubt is, that 
verbal expression will only be a correct representa- 
tion of thought if there should never be even the 
slightest variation of the one without a correspond- 
ing variation of the other. But the principle is not 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 179 

necessarily inconsistent with the existence of various 
forms which should be recognized as diftering in no 
other respect whatever except only in vocal charac- 
ter ; and the language would be at least musically 
richer with more of this kind of variety. It is what 
it regards as the irregularity or lawlessness, how- 
ever, of such logically unnecessary variation that 
the grammatical spirit hates. It Vv^ould be argued 
that with two or more words of precisely the same 
signification we should have really something like 
a confusion of two or more languages. [ Whiles is 
the genitive singular of while^ which was originally 
a noun, used as an adverb. In Icelandic the geni- 
tive is used adverbially, and -is is the common termi- 
nation of adverbs formed from nouns. Whiles is 
found in Matthew, v. 25. Needs ^ in phrases like 
" must needs," is another instance of the genitive 
used adverbially. Compare the Saxon tzeddes, of 
necessity.] 

67. For the present stage direction at the end of 
this speech, we have in the original text '•'•Sennit. 
Exeunt Ccesar and his Trained 

69. What hath ckajtced to-day. — So in 7 1 , where, 
also, most of the modern editions have " what hath 
chanced," although had is the word in all the Folios. 
Instead of to chance in this sense we now usually 
say to happe7i. Chance is French [the Latin caden- 
tia, and not, as Craik says, from the cas- of castes 
strengthened by inserting n~\ ; happen, hap, and also 
happy, appear to be derivatives from a Welsh word, 
hap or hab, luck, fortune. The Saxon verb was 
befeallan, from which also we have still to befall. 

78. Ay, marry, was't. — This term of assevera- 
tion, marry, which Johnson seems to speak of as 
still in common use in his day, is found in Chaucer 



i8o Philological Commentarv. [act i. 

in the form Mary^ and appears to be merely a mode 
of swearing by the Holy Virgin. [Of course, its 
origin had come to be forgotten in Shakespeare's 
day, so that its use here is no anachronism.] 

78. Every time gentler than other. — So in 
Meas.for Meas. iv. 4 : " Every letter he hath writ 
hath disvouched other." [ Other in these passages 
appears to be the plural of other^ Saxon othere. 
Compare Latimer {Sermons): "It is no marvel 
that they go about to keep other in darkness." So 
Luke xxiii. 32 ; Phil. ii. 3 ; iv. 3.] 

82. The rabblement shouted. — The first three 
Folios have howted^ the Fourth houted. The com- 
mon reading is hooted. But this is entirely incon- 
sistent with the context. The people applauded 
when Ctesar refused the ci'own, and only hissed or 
hooted when they thought he was about to accept 
it. Shouted was substituted on conjecture by Han- 
mer. [Dyce and Hudson have hooted; Collier and 
White, shouted.~\ 

82. Eor he stvoojted. — Stvoonded is the word in 
all the Folios. 

83. Did Ccesar szvoonP — Here sivound is the 
word in all the Folios. 

85. ^Tis very like : he hath the falling sickness. — 
Like is likely, or probable, as in 57. I am surprised 
to find Mr. Collier adhering to the blundering punc- 
tuation of the early copies, " 'Tis very like he hath," 
etc. Caesar's infirmity was notorious ; it is men- 
tioned both by Plutarch and Suetonius. 

86. Ajtd honest Casca^ etc. — The slight inter- 
ruption to the flow of this line occasioned by the 
supernumerary syllable in Casca adds greatly to the 
effect of the emphatic we that follows. It is like the 
swell of the wave before it breaks. 



sc. II. J Julius C^sar. i8i 

d>^. If the tag-rag feople. — In Corlolamis., iii. 
I, we have " Will you hence, before the tag xQtnxn" 
" This," says Nares, " is, perhaps, the only instance 
oi tag vf'ithout his companions r^^and bobtail, or at 
least one of them. [The expression " tag and rag" 
is old in English poetry. Collier quotes from John 
Partridge, 1566 : 

To walles they goe, both tagge and ragge, 
Their citie to defende.] 

87. JVo true man. — No honest man, as we should 
now say. Jurymen, as Malone remarks, ai"e still 
styled " good men and ti'ue." 

89. He plucked me ope his dojiblet. — Though 
we still use to ope in poetry, ope as an adjective is 
now obsolete. As for the me in such a phrase as 
the present, it may be considered as being in the 
same predicament with the my in My Lord, or the 
mon in the French Monsieur. That is to say, it has 
no proper pronominal significancy, but merely serves 
(in so far as it has any eftect) to enliven or otherwise 
grace the expression. How completely the pronoun 
.is forgotten, — or we may say, quiescent — in such 
a case as that of Monsieur is shown by the common 
phrase " Mon cher monsieur." See 205 and 470. 

The best commentary on the use of the pronoun 
that we have here is the dialogue between Petrucio 
and his servant Grurnio, in Tain, of Shrew, i. 2 : 
'"'■Pet. Villain, I say, knock me here soundly. Grzc. 
Knock you here, sir? Why, sir, what am I, sir, that 
I should knock you here, sir? Pet. Villain, I say, 
knock me at this gate, and rap me well, or Til knock 
your knave's pate. Grzi. My master is grown quar- 
relsome : I should knock you first, And then I know 
after who comes by the worst. . . . Hortensio. How 
now, what's the matter? . . . Gru. Look you, sir, — 



1 82 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

he bid me knock him, and rap him soundly, sir: 
Well, was it fit for a servant to use his master 
so ? . . . Pet. A senseless villain ! — ■' Good Hor- 
tensio, I bade the rascal knock upon your gate, And 
could not get him for my heart to do it. Gru. 
Knock at the gate? — O heavens! Spake you not 
these words plain, — ' Sirrah, knock me heie. Rap 
me here, knock me well, and knock me soundly?' 
And come you now with — knocking at the gate?" 

89. A man of any occupation. — This is explained 
by Johnson as meaning " a mechanic, one of the 
plebeians to whom he offered his throat." But it 
looks as if it had more in it than that. In the Folios 
it is " and I had been a man ; " and again in 95 
" and I tell you." So also Bacon writes (Essay 
23d), "Certainly it is the nature of extreme self- 
lovers, as they will set an house on fire, and it were 
but to roast their eggs ;" and (Essay 40th), "For 
time is to be honoured and respected, and it were 
but for her daughters. Confidence and Reputation." 

\_And or an for if is very common in old writei'S. 

" And why, sire," quod I, '■'■and yt like you." ' 

Chaucer, Legend of Good Women., 319. 

So wote Crist of his curteisie, 
And men crye him mercy, 
Bothe forgyve and forgete. 

Piers Ploughman^s Vis. 1 1849. 

And if., or an if are as frequent. 

But and tfwe have this livery, if we wear his cognizance, 
etc. Latimer, Sennotis. 

I pray thee, Launce, and (/"thou seest my boy. 

Two Gent, of Verona, iii. I. 

See also Matthew xxiv. 48. 

Home Tooke derives an from the Saxon unnan^ 
to grant, as he does if {gif in Old English) from 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 183 

gifan, to give ; and this etymology is adopted in the 
last revision of Webster's Diet. Wedgwood, on the 
other hand, regards the w^ord as a fragment of even, 
and Marsh, in his edition of Wedgwood, allows this 
derivation and the long disquisition upon it, to pass 
without comment. See aLso Richardson's Diet., and 
the Bible Word-Book.'] 

9=^. Marullus and JPlavitcs. — In this instance the 
Marullus is Murrellus in the First Folio (instead 
oi Murellus, as elsewhere). 

97. I am promised forth. — An old phrase for, I 
have an engagement. 

102. He was qtiick mettle. — This is the reading 
of all the old copies^ I have allowed the distinction 
made by the modern editors between metal and met- 
tle to stand throughout the Play, although the latter 
form is merely a corruption of the former. In the 
First Folio it is always mettle; in 16 and 105, as 
well as here and in 177 and 505. 

103. However he ptits on. — We should hardly 
now use however, in this sense, w^ith the indicative 
mood. We should have to say, " However he may 
put on." — This tardy form : this shape, semblance, 
of tardiness or dulness. 

104. I will come home to you . . . Come hojne to 
vie. — To come home to one, for to come to one's 
house, is another once common phrase which is now 
gone out of use. 

105. Think of the world. — The only meaning 
that this can have seems to be. Think of the state in 
which the world is. 

105. Fro7?i that it is disposed. — Here we have 
the omission, not only of the relative, which can 
easily be dispensed with, but also of the preposition 
governing it, which is an essential part of the verb ; 



184 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

but, illegitimate as such syntax maybe, it is common 
with our writers down to a date long subsequent to 
Shakespeare's age. See 224. 

105. Therefore it is meet. — It is (instead of 'tis) 
is the reading of the First Folio, which has been re- 
stored by Mr. Knight. [So Dyce.] The excess here 
is of a syllable (the fore of therefore) not quite so 
manageable as usual, and it makes the verse move 
ponderously, if we must not say halt ; but perhaps 
such a prosody may be thought to be in accordance 
with the grave and severe spirit of the passage. 

105. With their likes. — We scarcely use this 
substantive now. 

105. Ccesar doth bear me Jiard. — Evidently an 
old phrase for, does not like me, bears me a grudge. 
It occurs again in 199, and a third time in 344. In 
199, and there only, the editor of the Second Folio 
has changed hard into hatred., in which he has been 
followed by the Third and Fourth Folios, and also 
by Rowe, Pope, Hanmer, and even Capel. Mr. 
Collier's MS. annotator restores the hard. It is 
remarkable that the expression, meeting us so often 
in this one Play, should be found nowhere else in 
Shakespeare. Nor have the commentators been able 
to refer to an instance of its occurrence in any other 
writer. 

[Staunton considers the phrase " equivalent, liter- j 
ally, to keeps a tight rein tipoit ?«e, and metaphori- 
cally, to does not trust me., or fears., or doubts me" 
In 199 Dyce, Hudson, and White have hard.'\ 

105. He should not htimour me. — The meaning 
seems to be. If I were in his position (a favorite with 
Caesar), and he in mine (disliked by CcBsar), he 1 
should not cajole, or turn and wind, me, as I now do 1 
him. He and me are to be contrasted by the em- 



sc, 



HI.] Julius C^sar. 185 



phasis, in the same manner as / and he in the pre- 

' ceding line. This is Warburton's explanation ; whose 
remark, however, that the words convey a reflection 
on Brutus's ingratitude, seems unfounded. It is 

' rather Brutus's simpHcity that Cassius lias in his 
mind. It would be more satisfactory, however, if 

' other examples could be produced of the use of the 
verb to humor in the sense assumed. Johnson ap- 
pears to have quite mistaken the meaning of the 

^ passage : he takes the he to be, not Brutus, but Caesar ; 
and his interpretation is, " his (that is, CEesar's) love 

' should not take hold of my affection, so as to make 
me forget my principles." 

105. In several ha?zds. — Writings in several 
hands. 

105. Let CcBsar seat him sure. — Seat himself 
'firmly (as on horseback). 

Scene III. — The heading of Scene III. in the 
-old copies is only " Thunder and Lightning. Enter 
Casca, and Cicero." 

106. Brought you Ccesar hotne? — ^rz*^^, which 
is now ordinarily restricted to the sense of carrying 
hither (so that we cannot say. Bring there^^ was 
formerly used in that of carrying or conveying gen- 
erally. To bring one on his way, for instance, was 
to accompany him even if he had been leaving the 
speaker. So " Brought you Caesar home? " is, Did 

■you go home with Caesar ? [Compare Genesis xviii. 
16 ; Acts xxi. 5 ; Rojiians xv. 24.] To fetch., again, 
seems always to have meant more than to bring or 

'to carry. " A horse cannot fetch, but only carry," 
says Launce in The Two Gent, of Ver. iii. i. 

107. All the sway of earth. — That is, the bal- 
anced swing of earth. 



1 86 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

107. Like a thing wtfirm. — We have now lost 
the adjective zinfirtn^ and we have appropriated 
infirm ahnost exclusively to the human body and 
mind, and their states and movements. For infirm 
generall}' we can only say not firm. 

107. Have rived. — We have nearly lost this 
form, which is the one Shakespeare uses in the only 
two passages in which (if we may trust to Mrs. 
Clarke) the past participle passive of the verb to 
rive is found in his works. The other is also in 
this Play : " Brutus hath rived my heart," in 553. 
Milton, again, has our modern riveji in the only 
passage of his poetry in which any part of the verb 
to rive occurs, {^P. L. vi. 449) : " His riven arms to 
havoc hewn." 

107. To be exalted tvith. — That is, in order, or 
in the effort, to be raised to the same height with. 

107. A tempest dropping- fire. — In the original 
text these three words are joined together by 
hyphens. 

107. A civil strife in heaven. — A strife in which 
one part of heaven wars with another. 

108. Any thi}2g more wonderful. — That is, any- 
thing more that was wonderful. So in Coriolanus^ 
iv. 6 : — 

The slave's report is seconded, and more, 
More fearful, is delivered. 

So also in King fohn., iv. 2 : — 

Some reasons of this double coronation 

I have possessed 3'ou w^ith, and think them strong; 

And more, more strong, . . . 

I shall endue you with. 

109. Toit kitow hi?n well by sight. — Is it to be 
supposed that Casca really means to say that the 
common slave whom he chanced to meet w^as a par- 



sc. in.] Julius C^sar. 187 

ticular individual well known to Cicero? Of what 
importance could that circumstance be? Or for 
what purpose should Casca notice it, even supposing 
him to have been acquainted with the fact that Cicero 
knew the man well, and yet knew him only by sight? 
It is impossible not to suspect some interpolation or 
corruption. Perhaps the true reading may be, "You 
k7ie~iV him well by sight," meaning that any one 
would have known him at once to be but a common 
slave (notwithstanding the preternatural appearance, 
as if almost of something godlike, which his uplifted 
hand exhibited, burning but unhurt). [The incident 
is taken from North's Plutarch. " There was a slave 
of the souldiers that did cast a marvellous burning 
flame out of his hands, insomuch as they that saw it 
thought he had been burnt ; but when the fire was 
out, it was found that he had no hurt." — Life of 
yulius Ccesar. " You Rnow him well by sight " 
seems to me a less singular expression than the one 
which Craik suggests as an emendation. It is nothing 
strange that both Cicero and Casca should happen 
to know a particular slave by sight, and it is natural 
enough that Casca in relating this prodigy to his 
friend should say, And you yourself know the man.] 

109. Besides (Z have not since., etc. — In the 
Folios, " I ha' not since." 

109. Agaijist the Capitol. — Over against, oppo- 
site to. 

109. Who glared tipon me. — In all the Folios 
the word is glazed. Pope first changed it to glared. 
Malone afterwards substituted gazed., partly on the 
strength of a passage in Stowe's Chronicle, — which 
gave Steevens an opportunit}-^ of maliciously rejoin- 
ing, after quoting other instances of Shakespeare's 
use of glare., " I therefore continue to repair the 



i88 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

poet with his own animated phraseology, rather than 
with the cold expression suggested by the narrative 
of Stowe ; who, having been a tailor, was undoubt- 
edly equal to the task of mending Shakespeare's 
hose, but, on poetical emergencies, must not be 
allowed to patch his dialogue," Glared is also the 
correction of Mr. Collier's MS. annotator. 

109. Drawn upon a heap. — Gathered together 
in a heap, or crowd. " Among this princely heap," 
says Gloster in Richard III. ii. i. Heap was in 
common use in this sense throughout the seventeenth 
century. [Compare Chaucer, Prioresses Tale : — 

A litel scole of Cristen folk ther stood 
Doun at the ferther endc, in which ther were 
Children a» hepe comen of Ci-isten blood.] 

109. The bird of night. — The owl ; as the " bird 
of dawning" (the cock) in Hamlet^ i. i. 

109. Hooting and shrieking. — Hoivti^tg is the 
word in the first three Folios, houting in the Fourth. 

109. Eve7i at noonday^ etc. — There may be a 
question as to the prosody of this line ; whether we 
are to count even a monosyllable and throw the ac- 
cent upon day^ or making even a dissyllable and 
accenting noon., to reckon day supernumerary. 

109. These are their reaso7is., etc. — That such and 
such are their reasons. It is the same form of expres- 
sion that we have afterwards in 147 : "Would run to 
these and these extremities." But the present line 
has no claim to either a distinctive type or inverted 
commas. It is not as if it were " These are ozir rea- 
sons." [Collier in his "Regulated Text" adopts 
the emendation, seasons^ of his MS. annotator, but 
in his second edition he returns to the old reading.] 

109. Unto the climate. — The region of the earth, 
according to the old geographical division of the 



sc. 



III.] Julius C^sar. 189 



globe into so many Climates^ which had no refer- 
ence, or only an accidental one, to differences of tem- 
perature. 

no. A strange-disposed time. — We should now 
have to use the adverb in this kind of combination. 
If we still say stra77ge-shaped^ it is because there we 
seem to have a substantive for the adjective to qual- 
ify ; just as we have in high-miitd-ed., strong-7nind- 
ed, able-bodi-ed^ and other similar forms. In other 
cases, again, it is the adjective, and not the adverb, 
that enters into the composition of the verb ; thus we 
say strange-looking., mad-looking., heavy-looking., 
etc., because the verb is to look strange., etc., not to 
look stratigely (which has quite another meaning). 
Foreign-built may be regarded as an irregular for- 
mation, occasioned probably by our having no such 
adverb as foreig7ily. Even in home-built., home- 
baked., home-brewed., hoTue-grown., ho7ne-7nade., etc., 
the adverb home has a meaning {at home) which it 
never has when standing alone. 

no. Clean J'ro77i the purpose. — A use of clean 
(for coTHpletely) now come to be accounted inelegant, 
though common in the translation of the Bible. [See 
Ps. Ixxvii. 8 ; Isa. xxiv. 19, etc.] '■'■From the pur- 
pose " is away from the purpose. 

112. The metre of this speech stands, or rather 
stumbles, thus in the original edition : — 

Good night then, Caska : 
This disturbed Skie is not to walke in. 

117. Tozir ear is good., etc. — The old copies have 
"What night is this?" But, notwithstanding the 
supernumerary short syllable, the only possible read- 
ing seems to be the one which I have given : " Cas- 
sius, what a night is this ! " The a is plainly indis- 
pensable ; for surely Casca cannot be supposed to 



190 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

ask what day of the month it is. What he says can 
only be understood as an exclamation, similar to that 
of Cinna, in 135: "What a fearful night is this!" 
As foi the slight irregularity in the prosody, it is of 
perpetual occun-ence. [" What night is this ! " is 
equivalent to " What a night," etc. In such excla- 
mations it was not unusual to omit " a ". Compare 
in T%vo Gent, of Verona^ i. 2, — 

What fool is she, that knows I am a maid, 
And would not force the letter to my view ! 

and in Tivelfth Nighty ii. 5, — 

Fab. What dish o' poison has she dressed him 1 

Sir To. And with what wing the staniel checks at itl] 

120. So full of faults. — The w ox A. fault, for- 
merly, though often signifying no more than it now 
does, carried sometimes (as here) a much greater 
weight of meaning than we now attach to it. Com- 
pare 143- 

120. The thunder-stone. — The thunder-stone is 
the imaginary product of the thunder, which the 
ancients called JSrontia, mentioned by Pliny (iV. II. 
xxxvii. 10) as a species of gem, and as that which, 
falling with the lightning, does the mischief. It is 
the fossil commonly called the Belemnite, or Finger- 
stone, and now known to be a shell. We still talk 
of the thunder-bolt, which, however, is commonly 
confounded with the lightning. The thunder-stone 
was held to be quite distinct from the lightning, as 
may be seen from the song of Guiderius and Arvira- 
gus in Cymbeline, iv. 2 : — 

Guid. Fear no more the lightning-flash. 
Arv. Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone. 

It is also alluded to in Othello, v. 2 : — 

Are there no stones in heaven, 
But what serve for the thunder? 



sc. in.] Julius C^sar. i^i 

122. TTiti are dull, etc. — The commencement of 
this speech is a brilliant specimen of the blank verse 
of the original edition : — 

You «re dull, Caska : 
And those sparkes of Life, that should be in a Roman, 
You doe want, or else you use not. 
You looke pale, and gaze, and put on feare, 
And cast jourselfe in wonder, 
To see, . . . 

122. Cast yourself hi wonder. — Does this mean 
throw yourself into a paroxysm of wonder ? Or may 
cast yotirself mean cast your self, or your mind, 
about, as in idle conjecture? The commentators 
are mute. Shakespeare sometimes has in where we 
should now use into. In an earlier stage of the lan- 
guage, the distinction now established between in 
and into was constantly disregarded ; and in some 
idiomatic expressions, the radical fibres of a national 
speech, we still have in used to express what is com- 
monly and regularly expressed by iiito. To fall ijt 
love is a familiar example. Perhaps we continue to 
say in love as marking more forcibly the opposition to 
what Julia in the concluding line of Act IV. of Xhe 
Two Ge7itlenie7i of Verona calls out of love. The 
expression cast yourself in wonder seems to be most 
closely paralleled by another in Richard III. i. 3 : 
" Clarence, whom I, indeed, have cast in darkness," 
as it stands in the First Folio, although the preceding 
Quartos (of which there were five, 1597, 1598, 1603, 
1612 or 1613, 1622) have all " laid in darkness." We 
have another instance of Shakespeare's use of in 
where we should now say into in the familiar lines 
in The Merchant of Venice, v. i : — 

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank I 
Here we will sit, and let the sounds of music 
Creep in our ears. 



192 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

[Collier, Dyce, Hudson, and Staunton have cast. 
White substitutes case, and quotes Much Ado, iv. i : 
" I am so attired in wonder." 

Other instances of in -for i7ito are, — 

Dost thou come here to whine? 

To outface me with leaping in her grave ? 

Hamlet, v. i. 

And bubbling from her breast it doth divide 

In two slow rivers. Lucrece, 1738. 

But first I'll turn yon fellow in his grave. 

Richard III. 1. 2. 

See also Deuteron. xxiv. i ; 2 Kings ix. 25.] 
122. Why old men, etc. — Blackstone's novel point- 
ing of this passage is ingenious : " Why old men 
fools" (J. e. why we have all these fires, etc., why 
we have old men fools). [So Collier, Dyce, and 
Staunton. White has "Why old men fool," etc; 
Hudson, " Why old men, fools, and children," etc. 
I prefer White's reading.] But the amendment is 
hardly requii'ed ; or, at any i-ate, it would not go far 
to give us a perfectly satisfactory text. Nor does 
there seem to be any necessity for assigning to calcu- 
late the singular sense of prophesy (which the ex- 
pression adduced by Johnson, to calculate a nativ- 
ity, is altogether insufficient to authorize). There is 
probably some corruption ; but the present line may 
be very well understood as meaning merely, why not 
only old men, but even fools and children, speculate 
upon the future ; or, still more simply, why all per- 
sons, old and young, and the foolish as well as the 
wise, take part in such speculating and prognosticat- 
ing. Shakespeare may have been so far from think- 
ing, with Blackstone, that it was something unnatural 
and prodigious for old men ever to be fools, that he 
has even designed to classify them with foolish persons 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 193 

generally, and with children, as specially disqualified 
for looking with any very deep insight into the future. 
And so doubtless they are apt to be, when very old. 

122. Unto some monstrous state. — That is, I sup- 
pose, some monstrous or unnatural state of things 
(not some overgrown commonwealth). 

122. And roars ^ etc. — That is, roars in the Cap- 
itol as doth the lion. Many readers, I believe, infer 
from this passage that Caesar is compared by Cas- 
sius to some live lion that was kept in the Capitol. 
Or pei'haps it may be sometimes imagined that he 
alludes to the same lion which Casca (though not in 
his hearing) has just been telling Cicero that he had 
met " against the Capitol." The Second and two 
following Folios have tears for roars. 

122. No 77iightier than thyself^ or me. — Of 
course, in strict grammar it should be than I. But 
the personal pronouns must be held to be, in some 
measure, emancipated from the dominion or tyranny 
of syntax. Who would rectify even Shelley's bold 

lest there be 
No solace left for thou and me ? 

[And who would venture to imitate it?] The gram- 
matical law has so slight a hold that a mere point 
of euphony is deemed sufficient to justify the neglect 
of it. 

As we have me for / in the present passage, we 
have / for 7ne in Antonio's " All debts are cleared 
between you and I " (^Merchant of Venice., iii. 2). 

132. \_Prodigious grown. — That is, portentous ; 
as in the other cases in which Shakespeai^e uses the 
word, except where Launce {Two Gent, of Ver. 
ii. 3) speaks of " the prodigious son."] 

124. Let it be who it is. — Not who it may be; 
Cassius, in his present mood, is above that subterfuge. 
13 



194 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

While he abstains from pronouncing the name, he 
will not allow it to be supposed that there is any 
doubt about the actual existence of the man he has 
been describing. 

124. Thews and limbs. — \_Thews here means 
muscular powei's, as in the only other two instances 
in which Shakespeare uses the word. "• Care I," says 
Falstaft"", in the Second Part of King Henry IV. iii. 
2, " for the limb, the thews.! the stature, bulk, and 
big assemblance of a man ? Give me the spirit, Mas- 
ter Shallow." So Laertes, in Hamlet^ i. 3, — 

For nature, crescent, does not grow alone 
In thetvs and bulk; but, as this temple waxes, 
The inward service of the mind and soul 
Grows wide withal. 

The word is from the Saxon theow or theoh^ 
whence also thigh., and must not be confounded 
w^ith the obsolete /i^ewi- = manners, or qualities of 
mind, which is from the Saxon theaw. This latter 
thews is common in Spenser, Chaucer, and earlier 
writers ; the former is found very rarely before 
Shakespeare's day. George Turbervile, in his trans- 
lation of Ovid's Epistles., first printed in 15675 has 
" the thews of Helen's passing [that is, surpassing] 
form." In the earlier version of Layamon's Brut., 
also, which belongs to the end of the twelfth cen- 
tui'y, we have in one place (verse 6361), " Monnene 
strengest of maine and of theatue of alle thissere 
theode" (of men strongest of main, or strength, and 
of sinew, of all this land). But Sir Frederick Mad- 
den remarks (III. 471), "This is the only instance 
in the poem of the word being applied to bodily 
qualities, nor has any other passage of an earlier 
date than the sixteenth century been found in which 
it is so used."] 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 195 

124. But^ ivoe the while I — This, I believe, is 
commonly understood to mean, alas for the present 
time ; but may not the meaning, here at least, rather 
be, alas for what hath come to pass in the mean 
while, or in the interval that has elapsed since the 
better days of our heroic ancestors? 

1 24. And %ue are govertied with. — We now com- 
monly employ by to denote agency and with where 
thei'e is only instrumentality ; but that distinction 
was not formerly so fully established, and with was 
used more frequently than it is with us. Shake- 
speare even has (^Rich. II. iii. 2), "I live w^V/z bread 
like you, feel want, taste grief." [He has also " at- 
tended with a desperate train," in Lear., ii. 4 ; and 
Bacon, too, has " attended with Callisthenes," in the 
Adv. of learnitzg', i. 2, § 11.] 

126. / know where I xvill wear this dagger., 

then. — The true meaning of this line is ruined by 

its being printed, as it is in the old, and also in most 

, of the modern editions, without the comma. [Col- 

. lier, Hudson, and White have the comma ; Dyce has 

not.] Cassius does not intend to be understood as 

c intimating that he is prepared to plunge his dagger 

\ into his heart at that time., but in that case. 

126. Can be retentive to. — Can retain or confine 
the spirit. 

1 26. If I know this. etc. — The logical connection 
of" If I know this" is with " That part of tyranny, 
etc. ; but there is also a rhetorical connection with 
" Know all the world besides." As if he had said, 
" Knowing this, I can shake off, etc. ; and, I know- 
ing this, let all others too know and beware that 
I can," etc. 

127. The power to cancel., etc. — Here we have 
■power reduced to a monosyllable, although it had 






196 Philological Commentary. [act i. 



been employed as a dissyllable only five lines be^ 
fore — " Never lacks power," etc. 

128. He were no lion^ etc. ^ His imagination is 
still filled w^ith the image by which he has already 
pictured the tyranny of the Dictator ; — " roars, as 
doth the lion, in the Capitol." — Hind^ a she stag, 
is correctly formed from the Saxon hinde^ of the 
same meaning ; our other hhtd^ a peasant, was 
originally hine and hina^ and has taken the d only 
for the sake of a fuller or firmer enunciation. It 
may be noted, however, that, although there is a 
natural tendency in certain syllables to seek this 
addition of breadth or strength, it is most apt to 
operate when it is aided, as here, by the existence of 
some other word or form to which the d properly 
belongs. Thus, soun (from sonner and sono) has 
probably been the more easily converted into sound 
from having become confounded in the popular ear 
and understanding with the adjective sound and the 
verb to sounds meaning to search ; and such obso- 
lete or dialectic forms as drownd and sivound (for 
drown and swoon) may be supposed to have been 
the more readily produced through the misleading 
influence of the parts of the verb which actually and 
properly .end in d or ed. As we have confounded 
the old hinde and hine^ so we have also the Saxon 
heard, meaning a flock or crowd (the modern Ger- 
man keerde), with hyrde, meaning a keeper or 
tender (the modern German hirt) ; our one form 
for both being now herd. 

128. My answer must be made. — I must answer 
for what I have said. 

129. To such a man^ That zs, etc. — See ^y. — 
To Jieer (or ^ear, as is the old spelling) is to mock, 
or laugh at. The word appears to have come to us 



sc. in.] Julius C^sar. 1^7 

from the Norse or Scandinavian branch of the 
Gothic, — one of the sources of our English tongue 
which recent philology has almost abjured, although, 
besides all else, we owe to it even forms of such 
perpetual occurrence as the are of the substantive 
verb and the ordinary sign of our modern genitiv* 
(for such a use of the preposition of^ common to us 
with the Swedish, is unknown to the classical Eng- 
lish of • the times before the Norman Conquest, 
although we have it in full activity, probably adopted 
from the popular speech of the northern counties, 
in the written language of the twelfth century). 

129. Hold^ ?ny hand. — That is, Have, receive, 
take hold (of it) ; there is my hand. The comma 
is distinctly marked in the early editions. [Staunton 
omits it.] 

1 29. Be factious for redress of all these griefo. — 
Here foctious seems to mean nothing more than 
active or urgent, although everywhere else, I believe, 
in Shakespeare the word is used in the same disrep- 
utable sense which it has at present. Griefs (the 
form still used in the French language, and retained 
in our own with another meaning) is his by far more 
common word for what we now call grievances., 
although he has that form too occasionally (which 

b Milton nowhere employs). See 435. 

130. To undergo., with me., an ejiterprise. — We 
r should now rather say to undertake where there is 
n anything to be done. 

130. Of hoitor able-dangerous. — These tv^'^o words 
were probably intended to make a compound adjec- 
tive, although the hyphen with which they are con- 
nected by most of the modern editors is not in the 
oldest printed text. The language does not now, at 
least in serious composition, indulge in compounds 



198 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

of this description. Shakespeare, however, has ap- 
parently several such. Thus : — 

More active-valiant, or more valiant-young. 
I Hen. IV. V. i. 

But pardon me, I am too sudden-bold. 

Love's Lab. Lost, ii. 

More fertile-fresh than all the field to see. 

Mer. W. of Wind. v. 

So full of shapes is fancy, 
That it alone is high-fantastical. 

Twelfth Night, i. i. 

130. By this they stay for 7ne. — That is, by this 
time. And it is a mode of expression which, like so 
many others which the language once possessed, we 
have now^ lost. Yet we still say, in the same sense, 
ere this., before this., after this., the preposition in 
these phrases being felt to be suggestive of the notion 
of time in a way that by is not. 

130. There is no . . . walking: — In another 
connection this might mean, that there was no pos- 
sibility of walking ; but here the meaning apparently 
is that there was no walking going on. 

130. The complexion of the elenient. — That is, 
of the heaven, of the sky. Noi'th, in his Plutarch., 
speaks of " the fires in the element." The word in 
this sense w^as much in favor with the fine writers or 
talkers of Shakespeare's day. He has a hit at the 
affectation in his Twelfth Night., iii. i, where the 
Clown, conversing with Viola, says, " Who you are, 
and what you would, are out of my welkin : I might 
say, element : but the word is over-worn." Of 
course, welkin is, and is intended to be, far more 
absurd. Yet we have element for the sky or the air 
in other passages besides the present. Thus : — 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar.* 199 

The element itself, . . . 

Shall not behold her face at ample view. 

T-Melfth Night, i. i. 

" I, in the clear sky of fame, o'ershine you as much 
as the full moon doth the cinders of the element, 
which show like pins' heads to her " {^Falstaff^ in 2 
Hen. IV. iv. 3). 

It is curious to find writers of the present day who 
are scrupulous about the more delicate proprieties 
of expression still echoing Shakespeare's dissatisfac- 
tion : " The territorial element., to use that favorite 
word," says Hallam, Mid. Ages., I. 297 {edit, of 
1855), probably without any thought of the remark 
of the all-observing dramatist two centuries and a 
half before. 

130. In favour' s like the work. — The reading in 
all the Folios is, " Is favors" (or " favours" for the 
Third and Fourth). The present reading, v/hich is 
that generally adopted, was first proposed by John- 
son ; and it has the support, it seems, of Mr. Collier's 
MS. annotator. [It is adopted by Dyce, Hudson, 
and White.] Favoicr (see 54) means aspect, ap- 
pearance, features. Another emendation that has 
been proposed (by Steevens) is, " Is favoured," But 
to say that the complexion of a thing is either fea- 
tured like, or in feature like, to something else is very 
like a tautology. I should be strongly inclined to 
adopt Reed's ingenious conjecture, " Is feverous," 
which he suppoi"ts by quoting from Macbeth^ ii. 3 : 
" Some say the earth Was feverous and did shake." 
So also in Coriolanus., i. 4 : " Thou mad'st thine 
enemies shake, as if the world Were feverous and 
did tremble." Feverous is exactly the sort of word 
that, if not very distinctly written, would be apt to 
puzzle and be mistaken by a compositor. It may 



200 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

perhaps count, too, for something, though not very 
much, against both "favour's like" and "favoured 
like " that a very decided comma separates the tw^o 
words in the original edition. 

134. One incorporate To our attempts. — One 
of our body, one united vi^ith us in our enterprise. 
The expression has probably no more emphatic im- 
port. 

135. There^s two or three. — The contraction 
there^s is still used indifferently with a singular or a 
plural ; though there is scarcely would be. [On / 
am glad on^t^ see 50-] 

136. Am I not staid for ? — This is the original 
reading, which has been restored by Mr, Knight. 
The common modern reading is, " Am I not staid 
for, Cinna ? " the last word being inserted (and that 
without notice, which is unpardonable) only to sat- 
isfy the supposed demands of the prosody. 

137. This speech stands thus in the First Folio : — 

Yes, you are. O Cassius, 
If you could but winne the Noble Brutus 
To our party — . 

The common metrical arrangement [which Hudson 
follows] is, — 

Yes, 

You are. O Cassius, if you could but win 

The noble Brutus to our party. 

No person either having or believing himself to have 
a true feeling of the Shakespearian rhythm can be- 
lieve this to be right. Nor am I better satisfied with 
Mr. Knight's distribution of the lines, although it is 
adopted by Mr. Collier : — 

Yes, you are. 
O, Cassius, if you could but win the noble Brutus 
To our party ; — 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 201 

which gives us an extended line equally unmusical 
and undignified whether read rapidly or slowly, 
followed (to make matters worse which were bad 
enough already) by what could scarcely make the 
commencement of any kind of line. I cannot doubt 
that, whatever we are to do with " Yes, you are," — 
whether we make these comparatively unimportant 
words the completion of the line of which Cassius's 
question forms the beginning, or take them along 
with what follows, which would give us a line want- 
ing only the first syllable (and deriving, perhaps, 
from that mutilation an abruptness suitable to the 
occasion), — the close of the rhythmic flow must be as 
I have given it : — 

O Cassius, if jou could 
But win the noble Bi-utus to our party. 

[Collier, Dyce, and Staunton adopt Craik's ar- 
rangement. White follows Knight, but suspects that 
the passage is corrupt.] 

138. Whei'e Brutzis ?nay but find it, — If btd be 
the true word (and be not a misprint for best), the 
meaning must be. Be sure you lay it in the praetor's 
chair, only taking care to place it so that Brutus may 
be sure to find it. 

138. Upo7z old Brutus' statue. — Lucius Brutus, 
who expelled the Tarquins, the reputed ancestor of 
Alarcus Lucius Brutus ; also alluded to in 56, " There 
was a Brutus once," etc. 

139. I will hie. — To hie (meaning to hasten) is 
used reflectively, as well as intransitively, but not 
otherwise as an active verb. 

139. And so bestow these papers. — This use of 
bestow (for to place, or dispose of) is now gone out ; 
though something of it still remains in stow. [Com- 
pare 2 Ki7igs v. 24; Luke xii. 17, 18.] 



202 Philological Commentary. [act i. 

140. Pomfey's theatre. — The same famous struc- 
ture of Pompey's, opened with shows and games of 
unparalleled cost and magnificence some ten or 
twelve years before the present date, which has been 
alluded to in 130 and 138. 

142. Tbu have right well conceited. — To conceit 
is another form of our still familiar to conceive. And 
the noun conceit, which survives with a limited 
meaning (the conception of a man by himself, which 
is so apt to be one of over-estimation), is also fre- 
quent in Shakespeare with the sense, nearly, of what 
we now call conception., in general. So in 348. 
Sometimes it is used in a sense which might almost 
be said to be the opposite of what it now means ; as 
when Juliet (in Romeo and yuliet., ii. 5) employs it 
as the term to denote her all-absorbing affection for 
Romeo : — 

Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, 
Brags of his substance, not of ornament: 
They are but beggars that can count their worth ; 
But mj true love is grown to such excess, 
I cannot sum the sum of half my wealth. 

Or as when Gratiano, in The Merchant of Venice^ 
i. I, speaks of a sort of men who 

do a wilful stillness entertain, 
With purpose to be dressed in an opinion 
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit — 

that is, deep thought. 

So, again, when Rosaline, in Lovers Labour's 
Lost, ii. I, speaking of Biron, describes his "fair 
tongue" as " conceit's expositor," all that she means 
is, that speech is the expounder of thought. The 
scriptural expression, still in familiar use, " wise in 
his own conceit," means merely wise in his own 
thought, or in his own eyes, as we are told in the 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 203 

margin the Hebrew literally signifies. In the New 
Testament, where we have " in their own conceits," 
the Greek is simply "irap' kavroT^ (in or with them- 
selves). 

ACT II. 

Scene I. — The heading here in the Folios (in 
which there is no division into Scenes) is merely, 
^'' Enter Bruttis in his Orchard." Assuming that 
Brutus was probably not possessed of what we now 
call distinctively an orchard (which may have been 
the case), the modern editors of the earlier part of 
the last century took upon them to change Orchard 
into Garden. But this is to carry the work of rec- 
tification (even if we should admit it to be such) 
beyond what is wari'antable. To deprive Brutus in 
this way of his orchard was to mutilate or alter 
Shakespeare's conception. It is probable that the 
words Orchard and Garden were commonly under- 
stood in the eai'ly part of the seventeenth century in 
the senses which they now bear ; but there is nothing 
in their etymology to support the manner in which 
they have come to be distinguished. In Mtich Ado 
About Nothings ii. 3, although the scene is headed 
^'•Leonato's Garden" Benedick, sending the Boy for 
a book from his chamber-window, says, " Bring it 
hither to me in the orchard." A Garden {ox yard, 
as it is still called in Scotland) means merely a piece 
of ground girded in or enclosed ; and an Orchard 
(properly Ortyard) is, literally, such an enclosure 
for worts, or herbs. At one time Orchard used to 
be written Hortyard, under the mistaken notion that 
it was derived from hortus (which may, however, 
be of the same stock). 



204 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

143. How near to day. — How near it may be to 
the day. 

143. I tvozild it were my fatilt. — Compare thej 
use oi fault here with its sense in 120. 

143. When^ Lucitcs? when? — This exclamation 
had not formerly the high tragic or heroic sound 
which it would now have. It was merely a cus- 
tomary way of calling impatiently to one who had 
not obeyed a previous summons. So in Richard 
II. (i. 2) John of Gaunt calls to his son, " When, 
Harry? when? Obedience bids, I should not bid 
again." 

147. But for the general. — The general was 
formerly a common expression for what we now 
call the community or the people. Thus Angelo in 
Measure for Measure.^ ii. 4 : — 

The general, subject to a well-wished king, 
Quit their own pai't, and in obsequious fondness 
Crowd to his presence. 

147. And that craves. — It might be questioned 
whether that here be the demonstrative (as it is 
commonly considered) or the relative (to the ante- 
cedent " the bright day "). 

147. Crow7i him? That. — Here the emphatic 
that appears to be used exactly as so often is. See 
57. Either, or any equivalent term, thus used, might 
obviously serve very well for the sign of affirmation ; 
in the present passage we might substitute yes for 
that with the same effect. It used to be held that 
the French ozii., anciently oyl^ was merely the /// of 
the classic z'/Z-e, ill-a^ ill-ud^ and that the old Pro- 
venyal oc was hoc. It appears, however, that oui or 
oyl is really voul {ox je voul)^ the old present of 
vouloir. The common word ior yes in Italian, again, 
si (not unknown in the same sense to the French 



sc. 1.] Julius C^sar. 205 

tongue) , may be another form of so. The three lan- 
guages used to be distinguished as the Langue d" Oyl 
(or Lingtta Oytana)^ the Langiie d' Oc (or Lingua 
Occitana)^ and the Lingua di Si. The pointing in 
the First Folio here is, "■ Crowne him that, And 
then," etc. [Littre {Hist, de la Laizgue JFra7igaise, 
1863, voL i. p. 155) derives oui from hoc-illud. He 
says that there is no dispute in regard to the origin 
of the -// of the old form oi'/, but only in regard to 
the 0-, which Reynouard and most others believe to be 
the Latin hoc. Burguy argues that it is the old Cel- 
tic preposition d =: ab., de., ex., which is sometimes 
used as a conjunction, = ^a; quo., and sometimes as 
an adverb ; but Littre proves very clearly, I think, 
that he is wrong. Clievallet ( Origi7te et Forma- 
tio7i de la La?zg.,Fr.^ vol, iii. p. 310 foil.) says 
that oil or oil is an elliptical expression for o (m hoc) 
est il=icest cela : oil became ouil and finally 02^?'. 
Diez i^Etymol. IVorteri.) also makes oui z=. hoc- 
illud., and Scheler {Diet, d" Etymologic Eratigaise. 
1862) says that this derivation, though it has been 
vehemently disputed, cannot be overthrown.] 

147. Do danger. — [The history of the word 
danger is curious and instructive. Damnu?n in 
Medieval Latin signified a legal Jine or " damages." 
It was thence applied to the limits within which a 
lord could exact such fines, and so to the enclosed 
field of a proprietor. In this sense the word was 
often rendered dojnmage^ dojnmaige, or dafjzage., in 
French. It next acquired the sense of trespass, as 
in the legal phrase damage feasant., whence the 
French damager., to seize cattle found in trespass. 
From this verb came the abstract do?nigeriu7n, sig- 
nifying the power of exacting a damizu7n or fine for 
trespass. From domigerium to danger the transi- 



2o6 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

tion was natural, and the latter was equally applied 
to the light of exacting a fine for breach of territorial 
rights, or to the fine, or to the rights themselves. To 
be in the danger of any one, estre en son danger^ 
came to signify to be in his power, or liable to a 
penalty to be inflicted by him or at his suit, and hence 
the ordinary meaning of the word at the present day. 
We have, in the Merchant of Venice^ iv. i, — 

You stand ■vjithiii his danger^ do you not? 

From the meaning of penalty or fine, danger came 
to signify the license obtained to secure exemption 
from such penalty, or the price paid for such license ; 
and thence the difficulties about giving permission or 
complying with a request, or absolute refusal. For 
a fuller history of the word, and for passages illus- 
trating its changes of meaning, see Wedgwood. 
The Bible Word-Book gives a few additional pas- 
sages.] 

147. The abuse of greatness z's, etc. — The mean- 
ing ajDparently is, " The abuse to which greatness is 
most subject is when it deadens in its possessor the 
natural sense of humanity, or of that which binds us 
to our kind ; and this I do not say that it has yet 
done in the case of Caesar ; I have never known that 
in him selfish affection, or mere passion, has carried 
it over reason." JRemorse is generally used by 
Shakespeare in a wider sense than that to which it 
is now restricted. 

147. But 'tis a common proof. — A thing com- 
monly proved or experienced (what commonly, as 
we should say, proves to be the case). 

A frequent word with Shakespeare for to prove 
is to approve. Thus, in the Two Gentlemen of 
Verona., v. 4, we have, — * 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 207 

O, 'tis the curse in love, and still approved, 
When women cannot love vsrhere they're beloved. 

So, in Much Ado About Nothings we have, in iv. 
I, "an approved wanton," and afterwards "Is he 
not approved in the height a villain ? " When Don 
Pedro in the same Play, ii. i, describes Benedick as 
" of approved valour," the meaning is merely, that 
he had proved his valor by his conduct. So in 
Hatnlet, i. I, Marcellus says, speaking of Horatio 
and the Ghost, — 

I have entreated him along 
With us to watch the minutes of this night, 
That, if again this apparition come, 
He may approve our eyes, and speak to it ; 

that is, prove our eyes true. And in Meas. for 
Meas. i. 3, Claudio says, — 

This day my sister should the cloister enter, 
And there receive her approbation — 

for what we now call probation. This sense of the 
word (which we still retain in the law-term an 
approver., in Latin probatory occurs repeatedly both 
in the Bible and in Milton, and in fact is the most 
common sense which it has in our earlier English. 
\_Approve is used in the New Testament in two 
senses: i. To prove, demonstrate; Acts ii. 22; 
2 Cor. vi. 4, vii. 11. Compare '•'•approve it with 
a text" in Mer. of Venice., iii. 2. — 2. To put to 
the proof, test, try ; Rom. ii. 18 ; Phil. i. 10. So 
in ist Henry IV. iv. i, — 

Nay, task me to the word, approve me, lord.] 

147. Whereto the climber upward^ etc. — There 
is no hyphen in the original text connecting climber 
and upward., as there is in some modern editions ; 
but any doubt as to whether the adverb should be 



2o8 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

taken along with climber or with tzir?is might be 
held to be determined by the expression in Macbeth^ 
iv. 2 : " Things at the worst will cease, or else climb 
upwards To what they were before." 

147. The upmost rou7id. — The step of a ladder 
has come to be called a round, I suppose, from its 
being usually cylindrically sliaped. Mr. Knight 
(whose collation of the old copies is in general so 
remarkably careful) has here (probably by a typo- 
graphical error) utmost. 

147. The base degrees. — The lower steps of the 
ladder — les bas degres (from the Latin gradus) of 
the French. The epithet base, however, must be 
understood to express something of contempt, as well 
as to designate the position of the steps. 

147. Then, lest lie 7nay, prevent. — We should not 
now say to prevent lest. But the word prevent con- 
tinued to convey its original import of to come before 
more distinctly in Shakespeai^e's day than it does now. 
See 161 and 708. 

147. Will bear no colour for the thing he is. — 
Will take no appearance of being a just quarrel, if 
professedly founded upon what Caesar at present 
actually is. The use of color, and colorable, in this 
sense is still familiar. 

147. What he is-, aziginented. — What he now is, 
if augmented or heightened (as it is the nature of 
things that it should be). 

147. Woicld run to these, etc. — To such and such 
extremities (which we must suppose to be stated and 
explained). See 109. 

147. Think him as. — The verb to think has now 
lost this sense, though we might still say " Think 
him a serpent's egg," " Think him good or wicked," 
and also " To think a good or evil thought." 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 209 

147. As his kind. — Like his species. 

147. And kill him ifz the shell. — It is impossible 
not to feel the expressive effect of the hemistich here. 
The line itself is, as it were, killed in the shell. 

148. This speech is headed in the Folios " E^iter 
Lzicius." The old stage direction, " Gives him the 
Letter" is omitted by most of the modern editors. 

149. The ides of March. — The reading of all 
the ancient copies is, " the frst of March." It was 
Theobald who first made the correction, which has 
been adopted by all succeeding editors (on the ground 
that the day was actually that of the ides). At the 
same time, it does not seem to be impossible that the 
poet may have intended to present a strong image 
of the absorption of Brutus by making him forget the 
true time of the month. The reply of Lucius after 
consulting the Calendar — "Sir, March is wasted 
fourteen days " — sounds very much as if he were 
correcting rather than confirming his master's notion. 
Against this view we have the considerations stated 
by Warburton : " We can never suppose the speak- 
er to have lost fourteen days in his account. He is 
here plainly ruminating on what the Soothsayer told 
Caesar (i. 2) in his presence {^Beware the ides of 
March)." Mr. Collier also prints "the ides;" but 
the correction does not appear to be made by his MS. 
annotator. Mr. Knight, I apprehend, must be in 
error in saying that Shakespeare found " iY.efrst of. 
March " in North's Plutarch : the present incident 
is not related by Plutarch. [Knight may have re- 
ferred to this passage in North's Plutarch (yLife of 
Brutus') : " Cassius did first of all speak to Brutus, 
and asked him if he were determined to be in the 
senate-house, the first day of the month of March., 
because he heard say that Caesar's friends should 

14 



1 

r II. il 



2IO Philological Commentary, [ac: 

move the Council that day that Caesar should be 
called king by the senate," etc.] jl 

153. Brutus^ thou sleeps st; atvake. — I have en- 
deavored to indicate by the printing that the second 
enunciation of these words is a repetition by Brutus 
to himself, and not, as it is always made to appear, a 
further portion of the letter. [Collier agrees with 
Craik ; Dyce, Hudson, and White do not.] The let- 
ter unquestionably concluded with the emphatic adju- 
ration, " Speak, strike, redress ! " It never, after this, 
would have proceeded to go over the ground again 
in the same words that had been already used. They 
would have only impaired the effect, and would have 
been quite inappropriate in their new place. We 
see how the speaker afterwards repeats in the like 
manner each of the other clauses before commenting 
upon it. 

153. Where I have took. — See 46. ; 

153- Speak, strike, redress I — Ain I entreated^ 
etc. — The expression is certainly not strengthened 
by the then which was added to these words by 
Hanmer, in the notion that it was required by the 
prosody, and has been retained by Steevens and other 
modern editors. At the same time Mr. Knight's 
doctrine, that " a pause, such as must be made after 
redress, stands in the place of a syllable," will, at 
any rate, not do here ; for we should want two sylla- 
.bles after redress. The best way is to regard the 
supposed line as being in reality two hemistichs ; or 
to treat the words repeated from the letter as no part 
of the verse. How otherwise are we to manage the 
preceding quotation, " Shall Rome, etc." ? [See 

153. I make thee promise. — I make promise to 
thee. In another connection, the words might mean 



SCI.] Julius C-^sar. 211 

I make thee to promise. The Second FoHo has 
" the promise." The heading that follows this 
speech, and also 155, in the First Folio is Enter 
Lticitcs. 

154. March is wasted fourteen days. — In all 
the old editions it is fifteen. The correction was 
made by Theobald. See 149. Mr. Collier has also 
fourteen; but he does not here appear to have the 
authority of his MS. annotator. The heading which 
precedes is '■'•Enter Ltichis " in the original text. 

155. The genius and the mortal instruments. — 
The commentators have written and disputed lavishly 
upon these celebrated words. Apparently, by the 
geiiius we are to understand the contriving and im- 
mortal mind, and most probably the mortal instru- 
ments are the earthly passions. The best light for 
the interpretation of the present passage is reflected 
from 186, where Brutus, advising with his fellow- 
conspirators on the manner in which they should 
despatch their mighty victim, not as bloodthirsty 
butchers, but as performing a sacrifice of which they 
lamented the necessity, says, — 

Let our hearts, as subtle masters do, 
Stir up their servants to an act of rage, 
And after seem to chide 'em. 

The servants here may be taken to be the same with 
the instruments in the passage before us. It has 
been proposed to understand by the mortal insti-u- 
ments the bodily powers or organs ; but it is not ob- 
vious how these could be said to hold consultation 
with the genius or mind. Neither could they in the 
other passage be so fitly said to be stirred up by the 
heart. 

The bodily organs, however, seem to be distinctly 
designated the instruments and agents^ in Coriola- 



212 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

nus^ i. I, where, first, Menenius Agrippa says, in his 
apologue of the rebellion of the other members of 
the body against the belly, — 

The other instruments 
Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel, 
And mutually participate, did minister 
Unto the appetite and affection common 
Of the whole body, — 

and, shortly after, the Second Citizen asks, — 

The former agents, if they did complain, 
What could the belly answer? 

So again in Macbeth^ i. 7 : — 

I am settled, and bent up 
Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. 

[On this passage compare Troilus and Cressida^ 
ii. 3: — 

'Twixt his mental and his active parts 
Kingdonied Achilles in commotio?i rages, 
And batters down himself.] 

155' And the state of a man. — This is the origi- 
nal reading, in which the prosodical irregularity is 
nothing more than what frequently occurs. The 
common reading omits the article. There is cer- 
tainly nothing gained in vividness of expression by 
so turning the concrete into the abstract. We have 
elsewhere, indeed, in Macbeth^ i. 3, " My single state 
of man ; " and Falstaft', in the Second Part of Henry 
IV. iv. 4, speaks of " This little kingdom, man ; " 
but in neither of these cases is the reference in the 
word Tnan to an individual, as here. [Collier, Dyce, 
Hudson, Staunton, and White omit the «, which is 
obviously a misprint of the Folio. Knight retains 
it, but Dyce reminds him that in his (K.'s) National 
Edition of Shakespeare, his own printer has acci- 
dentally inserted an a in Julius Ccesar, iv. 3 : — 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 213 

I said an elder soldier, not a better : 
Did I saj a better? 

And Craik's printer has falsified the text in d^^ " He 
is a noble Roman," by omitting the a, and the editor 
has overlooked the error, just as the proof-reader of 
1623 did here.] The Exit Lucius attached to the 
first line of this speech is modern. 

156. Tour brother Cassius. — Cassius had mar- 
ried Junia, the sister of Brutus. 

158. ]Vo, Sir, there are moe with him. — Moe^ 
not more, is the word here and in other passages, 
not only in the First, but in all the Four Folios. It 
was probably the common form in the popular speech 
throughout the seventeenth century, as it still is in 
Scotland in the dialectic meK (pronounced exactly 
as the English may). No confusion or ambiguity is 
produced in this case by the retention of the old 
word, of continual occurrence both in Chaucer and 
Spenser, such as makes it advisable to convert the 
then, which the original text of the Plays gives us 
after the comparative, into our modern than. In 
some cases, besides, the moe is absolutely required 
by the verse ; as in Balthazar's Song in Much Ado 
About Nothing (ii. 3) : — 

Sing no more ditties, sing no moe, 

Of dumps so dull and heavy; 
The frauds of men were ever so, 

Since summer first was leavy. 

[The modern editors, so far as I know, all give 
more, except where the rhyme requires moe. In the 
Bible, edition of 161 1, moe is the comparative of 
many, but it does not seem to have been used for the 
adverb.] 

160. Plucked about their ears. — Fulled down 
about their ears. 



214 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

i6o. By any mark of favour. — That is, of fea- 
ture or countenance. See 54. 

161. When evils are most free I — When evil 
things have most freedom. 

161. To mask thy monstrous visage? — The only 
prosodical irregularity in this line is tlie common one 
of the one supernumerary short syllable (the age of 
visage^. The two unaccented syllables which follow 
the fifth accented one have no effect. 

161. For^ if thou fath^ thy native semblance 
on. — Coleridge has declared himself convinced that 
we should here read " if thou pzit thy native sem- 
blance on ; " and Mr. Knight is inclined to agree 
with him, seeing ihzX ptitte might be easily mistaken 
for pathe. If path be the word, the meaning must 
be. If thou go forth. Path is employed as a verb by 
Drayton, but not exactly in this sense : he speaks of 
pathing a passage, and pathing away, that is, making 
or smoothing a passage or way. There is no comma 
or other point after path in the old copies. [White 
is " inclined to the opinion that path is a misprint 
for hadst; " which is not unlikely. The Qiiarto of 
1691 has hath.'\ 

161. To hide thee from prevention. — To prevent 
(praevenire) is to come before, and so is equivalent 
in effect with to hinder., which is literally to make 
behind. I make that behind me which I get before. 
— The heading that follows is in the old copies, 
'"''Enter the Conspirators., Cassius, Casca, Decius^ 
Cinna^ Metellus., and Trebonius." 

162. We are too bold upo7t yotir rest. — We in- 
trude too boldly or unceremoniously upon your rest. 

168. This., Casca ; this, Ciitna; etc. — I print 
this speech continuously, as it stands in the original 
edition, and as Mr. Knight has also given it. It 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 215 

might perhaps be possible, by certain violent pro- 
cesses, to reduce it to the rude semblance of a line 
of verse, or to break it up, as has also been at- 
tempted, into something like a pair of hemistichs ; 
but it is far better to regard it as never having been 
intended for verse at all, like many other brief utter- 
ances of the same level kind interspersed in this and 
all the other Plays. • 

174. Which is a great tuay, etc. — The commen- 
tators, who flood us with their explanations of many 
easier passages, have not a word to say upon this. 
Casca means that the point of sunrise is as yet far 
to the south (of east), weighing (that is, taking into 
account, or on account of) the unadvanced period 
of the year. 

175. Give me your hands all over. — That is, all 
included. The idiom is still common. 

177. If not the face of men. — The commenta- 
tors are all alive here, one proposing to read fate 
of men, another ya^V/^ of men, another J'^a^V/^^ (as 
nearer in sound \.oface^. There seems to be no great 
difficulty in the old reading, understood as meaning 
the looks of men. It is preferable, at any rate, to 
anything which it has been proposed to substitute. 
[Dyce, Hudson, and White have face.'\ 
. 177. The time's abuse. — The prevalence of abuse 
generally, all the abuses of the time. 

177. Hence to his idle bed. — That is, bed of idle- 
ness, or in which he may lie doing nothing (not va- 
cant or unoccupied bed, as some would understand 
it). [Compare the expression, " a sick bed."] 

1 77' ^o let high-sighted tyran7iy. — High-look- 
ing, proud. — Some modern editions have rage, in- 
stead of range, probably by an accidental misprint. 

177' Till each man drop by lottery. — That is, 



21 6 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

probably, as if by chance, without any visible cause 
why he in particular should be struck down or taken 
off; or there may be an allusion to the process of 
decimation. 

177. Than secret Romans. — Romans bound to 
secrecy. 

177. And will not palter ? — To palter means to 
shuffle, to equivocate, to act or speak unsteadily or 
dubiously with the intention to deceive. It is best 
explained by the well-known passage in Macbeth 
(V.7):- 

And be these juggling fiends no more believed, 
That palter with us in a double sense ; 
That keep the word of promise to our ear, 
And break it to our hope. 

177. Or ive will fall for it ? — Will die for it. 

177. Men cautelous. — Cautelous is given to cau- 
tels, full of cautels. A cautel, from the Roman 
law-term cautela (a caution, or security), is mostly 
used in a discreditable sense by our old English 
writers. The caution has passed into cunning in 
their acceptation of the word ; — it was natural that 
caution should be popularly so estimated ; — and by 
cautels they commonly mean craftinesses, deceits. 
Thus we have in Hamlet (i. 3), — 

And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch 
The virtue of his will. 

And in the passage before us cautelous is cautious 
and wary at least to the point of cowardice, if not to 
that of insidiousness and trickery. 

177. Old feeble carrions. — Carrions .^ properly 
masses of dead and putrefying flesh, is a favorite 
term of contempt with Shakespeare. 

177. Such suffering souls, etc. — See the note on 
that gentleness as in 44. In the present speech we 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 217 

have both the old and the new phraseology ; — such 
. . . that in one line, and such . . . as vtx the next. — 
Suffering souls are patient, all-enduring souls. 

177. The even virttie of our enterprise. — The 
even virtue is the firm and steady virtue. The our 
is emphatic. 

177. Nor the insuppressive 7nettle. — The keen- 
ness and ardor incapable of being suppressed (how- 
ever illegitimate such a form with that sense may be 
thought to be). So we have in As Tote Like It (iii. 
2), " The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she." 
And even Milton has {Lycidas, 176), "And hears 
the unexpressive nuptial song." [So " With unex- 
pressive notes," Hymn o7i the JVativ. ii6.] — For 
mettle see 102. 

177. To think that. — That is, so as to think. 

1 77' Is guilty of a several bastardy. — The ety- 
mology of the word bastard is uncertain. Shake- 
speare pi-obably took his notion of what it radically 
expressed from the convertible phrase base-born. 
Thus, in Lear., i. 2, Edmund soliloquizes — "Why 
bastard ? Wherefore base ? " By a several bastardy 
here is meant a special or distinct act of baseness, or 
of treason against ancestry and honorable birth. For 
several see 443. 

1 78. Btct what of Cicero ? etc. — Both the pi^osody 
and the sense direct us to lay the emphasis on him. 

178. He ivill stand very strong. — He will take 
part with us decidedly and warmly. 

181. It shall be said, his judgment, etc. — Dr. 
Guest, in the paper " On English Verbs," in the 
Second Volume of the Proceediiigs of the Philo- 
logical Society, which has been already referred to, 
adduces some examples to show that the primary 
sense of shall is to owe. Hence the use of should^ 



2i8 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

which is still common in the sense of ought. " The 
use of shall to denote future time," Dr. Guest con- 
tinues, " may be traced to a remote antiquity in our 
language ; that of will is of much later origin, and 
prevailed chiefly in our northern dialects. — Writers, 
however, who paid much attention to their style, 
generally used these terms with greater precision. 
The assertion of will or of duty seems to have been 
considered by them as implying to a certain extent 
the power to will or to impose a duty. As a man 
has power to will for himself only, it was only in 
the first person that the verb nvill could be used with 
this signification ; and in the other persons it was 
left free to take that latitude of meaning which popu- 
lar usage had given to it. Again, the power which 
overrides the will to impose a duty must proceed 
from some external agency ; and consequently shall 
could not be employed to denote such power in the 
first person. In the first person, therefore, it was 
left free to follow the popular meaning, but in the 
other two was tied to its original and inore precise 
signification. These distinctions still continue a 
shibboleth for the natives of the two sister king- 
doms. Walter Scott, as is well known to his read- 
ers, could never thoroughly master the difficulty." 

In the Third Edition of Dr. Latham's English Lan- 
guage^ pp. 470-474, may be found two other explana- 
tions ; the first by the late Archdeacon Julius Charles 
Hare (from the Cambridge Philological Museum^ 11. 
203), the second by Professor De Morgan (from the 
Proceedings of the Philological Society^ iv. 185 ; No. 
90, read 25th Jan. 1850). [See also additional remarks 
in the Fifth Edition of Latham's work, pp. 624-626. 
Compare Marsh, Lectures^ First Series, p. 659.] 

The manner of using shall and will which is now 



sc. I,] Julius C^sar. 219 

so completely established in England, and which 
throughout the greater part of the country is so per- 
fectly uniform among all classes, was as yet only 
growing up in the early part of the seventeenth cen- 
tury. This was very well shown some years ago by a 
writer in Blackwood' s Magazine, by comparing many 
passages of the authorized version of the Scriptures, 
published in i6ii, with the same passages in the 
preceding translation, called the Bishops^ Bible^ 
which had appeared in 1568. The old use of shall^ 
instead of -will, to indicate simple futurity, with the 
second and third persons, as well as with the first, is 
still common with Shakespeare. Here, in this and 
the next line, are two instances : "It shall be said ; " 
" Shall no whit appear." So afterwards we have, in 
187, "This shall mark our purpose necessary;" in 
238, " Caesar should be a beast without a heart ; " in 
350, " The enemies of Cffisar shall say this ; " in 
619, " The enemy, marching along by them. By 
them shall make a fuller number up." We have 
occasionally the same use of shall even in Claren- 
don : " Whilst there are Courts in the world, 
emulation and ambition will ,be inseparable from 
them ; and kings who have nothing to give shall be 
pressed to promise" (j^w/., Book xiii). In some 
rare instances the received text of Shakespeare gives 
us Tvill where we should now use shall; as when 
Portia says, in The Merchant of Venice^ iii. 4, — 

I'll hold thee any wager, 
When we are both accoutred like young men, 
I'll prove the prettier fellow of the two. 

But here we should probably read "/ prove." [?] 

181. Shall 710 ivhit appear. — Whit is the Saxon 
wiht, anything that exists, a creature. It is the same 
word with nvight^ which we now use only for a man, 



220 Philological Commentary, [act ii, 

in the same manner as we have come in the language 
of the present day to understand creattire ahnost ex- 
clusively in the sense of a living creature, although 
it was formerly used freely for everything created, — 
as when Bacon says {JEssay of TrutJi)^ " The first 
creature of God, in the works of the days, was the 
light of the sense ; the last was the light of reason 
and his Sabbath work ever since is the illumination 
of his spirit; " or {Adv. of Leai'ning^ B. i.), " The 
wit and mind of man. if it work upon matter, which 
is the contemplation of the creatures of God, wo.rketh 
according to the stuff', and is limited thereby ; " or as 
it is written in our authorized version of the Scrip 
tures (i Tim. iv. 4), "Every creature of God (ffai 
xTi'rffxa ©sou) is good, and nothing to be refused, if 
it be i"eceived with thanksgiving." We have crea- 
ture used in this extensive sense even by so late a 
writer as the Scotch metaphysician Dr. Reid (who 
died in 1796), in his Inquiry into the Human Mind^ 
oh. I, first published in 1764: "Conjectures and 
theories are the creatures of men, and will always 
be found very unlike the creatures of God." No 
nvhit is not anything, nowhat, not at all. And our 
modern not (anciently nought) is undoubtedly no 
ivhit : how otherwise is the t to be accounted for? 
So that our English "I do not speak," :z: I do no 
■whit speak, is an exactly literal translation of the 
French ye ne parle pas (or point) ^ which many 
people believe to contain a double negative. 

182. Let us not break with him,. — That is. Let 
us not break the matter to him. This is the sense 
in which the idiom to break with is most frequently 
found in Shakespeare. Thus, in Much Ado About 
Nothing (i. i), the Prince, Don Pedro, says to his 
favorite Don Claudio, " If thou dost love fair Hero, 



sc. I.J Julius C^sar. 221 

cherish it ; and I will break with her ; " that is, I 
will open the matter to her. And again, in the same 
scene, " Then after to her father will I break." So 
in The Tzuo Gentle77ieii of Verona (iii. i), "I am 
to break with thee of some affairs" [and (i. 3), 
"Now will we break with him"]. But when, in 
The Merry Wives of Windsor (iii. 2), Slender says 
to Ford, in answer to his invitation to dinner, "We 
have appointed to dine with Mistress Anne, and I 
would not bi'eak with her for more money than I'll 
speak of," he means he would not break his engage- 
ment with her. The phrase is nowhere, I believe, 
used by Shakespeare in the only sense which it now 
bears, namely, to quarrel with. 

186. A shrewd contriver. — The adjective shrewd 
is generally admitted to be connected with the sub- 
stantive shrew ; and according to Home Tooke 
{Div. of Purley, 457~9)' both are formations from 
the Saxon verb syrwan, syrewan, or syrewian^ 
meaning to vex, to molest, to cause mischief to, 
from which he also deduces sorrow, sorry, sore, and 
sotir. Bosworth (who gives the additional forms 
syrwian, syrwyan, searwian, searwan, searian, 
seriati) interprets the old verb as meaning to pre- 
pare, endeavor, strive, arm, to lay snares, entrap, 
take, bruise. A shrew, according to this notion, 
might be inferred to be one who vexes or molests ; 
( and shrewd will mean endowed with the qualities 
or disposition of a shrew. Shrexu, as Tooke re- 
marks, was formerly applied to a male as well as to 
a female. So, on the other hand, paraniotir and 
' lover, now only used of males, were formerly also 
j applied to females ; and in some of the provincial 
[1 dialects villain is still a Common term of reproach 
J for both sexes alike. [See 259.] 



222 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

Both to shreiv and to beshrew are used by our old 
writers in the sense of to curse, which latter verb, 
again (originally ctirsan or cursian)^ also primarily 
and properly signifies to vex or torment. Now, it 
is a strong confirmation of the derivation of shrewd 
from the verb to shrew that we find shrewd and 
curst applied to the disposition and temper by our 
old writers in almost, or rather in precisely, the same 
sense. Shakespeai-e himself affords us several in- 
stances. Thus, in Much Ado About Nothing (ii. i), 
Leonato having remarked to Beatrice, " By my troth, 
niece, thou wilt never get a husband if thou be so 
shrewd of thy tongue," his brother Antonio adds, 
assentingly, " In faith, she's too curst." So, in A 
Midsummer Nighfs Drea?7i (iii. 2), Helena, de- 
clining to reply to a torrent of abuse from Hermia, 
says, " I was never curst; I have no gift at all in 
shrewishness." And in The Ta7ni7ig of the Shrew 
(i. 2), first we have Hortensio describing Katharine 
to his friend Petruchio as " intolerable curst., and 
shrewd., and froward," and then we have Katharine, 
the shrew, repeatedly designated " Katharine the 
curst." At the end of the Play she is called " a 
curst shrew," that is, as we might otherwise express 
it, an ill-tempered shrew. 

Shrexu., by the way, whether the substantive or 
the verb, always, I believe, and also shrewd very 
frequently, appear throughout the First Folio with 
ow as the diphthong, instead of ew ; and in The 
Taming of the Shrew the word shrezu is in various 
places made to rhyme with the sound of o ; so that 
there can be little doubt that its common pronun- 
. elation in Shakespeai'e's day was shrow, and also 
diat the same vowel sound was given to shrewd or 
shrowd in at least some of its applications. It is the 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 223 

reverse of what appears to have happened in the 
case of the word which probably was formerly pro- 
nounced shexv (as it is still often spelled), but now 
always show. Thus Milton, in his 7th Sonnet, — 
How soon hath Time, the subtle thief oi youth, 
Stolen on his wing my three and twentieth year! 
My hasting days fly on with full career, 
But my late spring no bud or blossom she-w'tk. 

So likewise in II Penseroso {I'Ji-, 17^)' — 
Of every star that heaven doth shew, 
And every herb that sips the dew. 

In the case, again, of siretv^ or strow^ neither mode 
either of spelling or of pronunciation can perhaps be 
said to have quite gone out, although the dictionaries, 
I believe, enjoin us to write the word with an e, but 
to' give it the sound of an o. In the passage before 
us the First Folio has " a shrew'd contriver." 

As it is in words that ill-temper finds the readiest 
and most frequent vent, the terms curst and shrew, 
and shrewd, and shrewish are often used with a 
special reference to the tongue. But sharpness of 
tongue, again, always implies some sharpness of un- 
derstanding as well as of temper. The terms shrezud 
and shrexvdly, accordingly, have come to convey 
usually something of both of these qualities, — at one 
time, perhaps, most of the one, at another of the 
other. The sort of ability that we call shrewdness 
never suggests the notion of anything very high : 
the word has always a touch in it of the sarcastic or 
disparaging. But, on the other hand, the disparage- 
ment which it expresses is never without an admis- 
sion of something also that is creditable or flattering. 
Hence it has come to pass that a person does not 
hesitate to use the terms in question even of himself 
and his own judgments or conjectures. We say, " I 



224 Philological Commentary. [act ii. 

shrewdly suspect or guess," or " I have a shrewd 
guess, or suspicion," taking the hberty of thus assert- 
ing or assuming our own intellectual acumen under 
cover of the modest confession at the same time of 
some little ill-nature in the exercise of it. 

Even when shrexvd is .used without any personal 
reference, the sharpness which it implies is generally, 
if not always, a more or less unpleasant sharpness. 
" This last day was a shrewd one to us," says one of 
the Soldiers of Octavius to his comrade, in Antony 
and Cleopatra^ iv. 9, after the encounter in which 
they had been driven back by Antony near Alexan- 
dria. Shrewdness is even used by Chaucer in the 
sense of evil generally ; as in The Hotise of Fame ^ 

"i- 537: — 

Speke of hem harm and shreuednesse, 
Instead of gode and worthinesse. 

And so too Bacon : " An ant is a wise creature for 
itself; but it is a shrewd thing in an orchard or gar- 
den." Essay 23d, " Of Wisdom for a Man's Self." 
186. If he improve them. — That is, if he apply 
them, if he turn them to account. It is remarkable 
that no notice is taken of this sense of the word either 
by Johnson or Todd. Many examples of it are given 
by Webster under both Improve and Improve?nent. 
They are taken from the writings, among others, of 
Tillotson, Addison, Chatham, Blackstone, Gibbon. 
We all remember 

How doth the little busy bee 
Improve each shining hour. 

Even Johnson himself, in The Rambler., talks of a 
man " capable of enjoying and improving life," — 
by which he can only mean turning it to account. 
The im of improve must be, or must have been 
taken to be, the preposition or the intensive particle, 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 225 

not the hi negative, although it is the latter which we 
have both in the Latin inip7'obus and improbo^ and 
also in the French improuver^ the only signification 
of which is to disappi'oye, and although in the latinized 
English of some of our writers of the sixteenth cen- 
tury to improve occurs in the senses both of to reprove 
and to disprove. In Much Ado About Nothing,, 
li. 3, when Benedick, speaking to himself of Beatrice, 
says, " They sa}'^ the lady is fair ; . . . and virtuous ; 
'tis so, I cannot reprove it," he seems to mean that 
he cannot disprove it. The manner in which the 
word improve was used in the middle of the seven- 
teenth century may be seen from the following sen- 
tences of Clarendon's : " This gave opportunity and 
excuse to many persons of quality ... to lessen 
their zeal to the King's cause ; . . . and those con- 
testations had been lately improved with some sharp- 
ness by the Lord Herbert's carriage towards the Lord 
Marquis of Hertford" {Hist. Book vi.). "Though 
there seemed reasons enough to dissuade her from 
that inclination, and his majesty heartily wished that 
she could be diverted, yet the perplexity of her mind 
was so great, and her fears so vehement, both im- 
proved by her indisposition of health, that all civility 
and reason obliged everybody to submit" {^Id. Book 
viii.). 

187. And envy afterwards. — Envy has here the 
sense often borne by the Latin invidia^ or nearly the 
same with hatred or malice,^ — the sense in which it 
is almost always used by Shakespeare. 

187. jLet us be sacrijicers. — I cannot think that 
the Lefs be of the First Folio indicates more, at 
most, than that it was the notion of the original 
printer or editor that sacrijicers should be pro- 
nounced with the emphasis on the second syllable. 
15 



226 Philological Commentary. [act ii. 

If we keep to the ordinary pronunciation, the line 
will merely have two supernumerary short, or unac- 
cented, syllables ; that is to say, " sacrificers, but not" 
will count for only two feet, or four syllables. This 
is nothing moi^e than what we have in many other 
lines. [See i6i.] 

187. We all stand tip, etc. — Spirit is the em- 
phatic word in this line. 

187. And let our hearts^ etc. — See 155. 

187. This shall mark. — For the shall see 181. — 
The old reading is, " This shall make" which is sense, 
if at all, only on the assumption that make is here 
equivalent to make to seem. I have no hesitation in 
accepting the correction, which we owe to Mr. Col- 
lier's MS. annotator. We have now a clear meaning 
perfectly expressed ; — this will show to all that our 
act has been a measure of stern and sad necessity, 
not the product of envy (or private hatred). [Dyce, 
Hudson, and White have make. No change seems 
called for.] 

187. Our purpose necessary ., etc. — There is noth- 
ing irregular in the prosody of this line, nor any elis- 
ion to be made. The measure is completed by the 
en of envious; the two additional unaccented sylla- 
bles have no prosodical effect, [See above on Let 
us be sacrificers. '\ 

188. Tet I do fear him. — The old reading is, 
" Yet I fear him ; " the do was inserted by Steevens. 
It improves, if it is not absolutely required by, the 
sense or expression as well as the prosody. Mr. 
Knight, by whom it is rejected [as it is by Dyce, 
Hudson, and White], says, " The pause which nat- 
urally occurs before Cassius offers an answer to the 
impassioned argument of Brutus, would be most de- 
cidedly marked by a proper reader or actor." This 



^ 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 227 

pause Mr. Knight would have to be equivalent to a 
single short syllable, or half a time. Surely one 
somewhat longer would have been necessary for such 
an effect as is supposed. The manner in which the 
next line is given in the original text shows that the 
printer or so-called editor had no notion of what the 
words meant, or whether they had any meaning : in 
his exhibition of them, with a full point after Ccesar, 
they have none. 

189. Is to himself^ etc. — To think ^ or to take 
thought^ seems to have been formerly used in the 
sense of to give way to sorrow and despondency. 
Thus, in Antony and Cleopatra^ iii. 11, to Cleopa- 
tra's question, after the battle of Actiura, "What shall 
we do, Enobarbus?" the answer of that worthy is, 
" Think and die." [Compare i Sam. ix. 5, and 
Matt. vi. 25. See also Hamlet., iii. i : — 

And thus the native hue of resolution 

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought. 

So Bacon, Henry VII. p. 230: " Hawis, an alder- 
man of London, was put in trouble, and dyed with 
thought^ and anguish, before his business came to an 
end."] 

189. And that were much he should. — That 
would be much for him to do. 

190. There is no fear ifi him. — That is, cause of 
fear. It is still common to use terror in this active 
sense, — as in 194 and 551. 

192. The clock hath stricken. — See 46 and 253. 

194. Whether Ccesar will cofne forth to-day or 
no. — Whether is thus given uncontracted here in 
all the old copies. [See 16.] 

194, ^ziite fro?n the main opinion. — " Qiiite 
from " is quite away from. So in Twelfth Nighty v. 



228 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

I, Malvolio, charging the Countess with having writ- 
ten the letter, says, — 

You must not now deny it is your hand ; 

Write from it, if you can, in hand or phrase. 

Malone remarks that the words " main opinion " 
occur also in T'roilus and Cressida^ where, as he 
thinks, they signify, as here, general estimation. 
The passage is in i. 3 : — 

Why then we should our mai7i opinion crush 
In taint of our best man. 

Johnson's interpretation is perhaps better : " lead- 
ing, fixed, predominant opinion." Mason has in- 
geniously proposed to read " mean opinion " in the 
present passage. 

194. Of fantasy^ etc. — Fantasy is fancy, or im- 
agination, with its unaccountable anticipations and 
apprehensions, as opposed to the calculations of 
reason. By ceretnonies^ as Malone notes, we are to 
understand here omens or signs deduced from sacri- 
fices or other ceremonial rites. The word is used 
again in the same sense in 233. For another sense 
of it see 16. 

194. These appareizt prodigies. — Apparent is 
here plain, evident, about which there can be no 
doubt ; as in Falstaff's (to Prince Henry) " Were it 
not here apparent that thou art heir apparent (i 
Henry IV. i. 2), — where the Jiere is also certainly 
intended to coincide with the heir^ giving rise to a 
suspicion that the latter word may have, sometimes 
at least, admitted of a different pronunciation in 
Shakespeare's day from that which it always has 
now. So when Milton says of our first parents 
after their fall {Par. Lost, x. 112) that 

Love was not in their looks, either to God 
Or to each other, but apparent guilt, 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 229 

he means manifest and undoubted guilt. In other 
cases by apparent we mean, not emphatically ap- 
parent, or indisputable, but simply apparent, appar- 
ent and nothing more, or what we otherwise call 
probable or seeming. " The sense is apparent " 
would mean that the sense is plain ; " the apparent 
sense is," that the sense seems to be. 

194. The unaccustomed terj'or. — Unaccustomed 
is unusual : we now commonly employ it for unused 
to. For terror see 190. 

194. Attd the persuasion of his augur ers. — 
Augurer, formed from the verb, is Shakespeare's 
usual word, instead of the Latin augur, which is 
commonly employed, and which he too, however, 
sometimes has. So again in 236. 

195. That unicorns, etc. — "Unicorns," says 
Steevens, " are said to have been taken by one who, 
running behind a tree, eluded the violent push the 
animal was making at him, so that his horn spent 
its force on the trunk, and stuck fast, detaining the 
beast till he was despatched by the hunter." He 
quotes in illustration Spenser's description (jP. ^. 
ii.5):- 

Like as a lion whose imperial power 

A proud rebellious unicorn defies, 

To avoid the rash assault and wrathful stour 

Of his fierce foe him to a tree applies ; 

And, when him running in full course he spies, 

He slips aside ; the whiles the furious beast 

His precious horn, sought of his enemies, 

Strikes in the stock, ne thence can be releast, 

But to the mighty victor yields a bounteous feast. 

" Bears," adds Steevens, " are reported to have been 
surprised by means of a mirror, which they would 
gaze on, affording their pursuers an opportunity of 
taking a surer aim. This circumstance, I think, is 



230 Philological Commentary, [act n. 

mentioned by Claudian. Elephants were seduced 
into pitfalls, lightly covered with hurdles and turf, 
on which a proper bait to tempt them was exposed. 
S)eeV\iny's JVatziral History, Bookviii." Reference 
might also be made to a speech of Timon to Ape- 
mantus in Tiinoji of Athens, iv. 3, " If thou wert 
the lion," etc., which is too long to be quoted. The 
import of the JFor, with which Decius introduces his 
statement, is not seen till we come to his " But when 
I tell him," etc., which, therefore, ought not, as is 
commonly done, to be separated from what precedes 
by so strong a point as the colon — the substitute of 
the modern editors for the full stop of the original 
edition. 

195. He says, he does; bei7ig then most flat- 
tered. — The ing of being counts for nothing in the 
pi'osody. For the ed oi flattered, see the note on 
246. 

197. By the eighth hour. — It is the eight hour 
in the first three Folios. The author, however, 
probably wrote eighth. 

199. Doth bear Ccesar hard. — See 105. 

200. Go along by him. — Pope, who is followed 
by the other editors before Malone, changed by into 
to. But to go along by a person was in Shake- 
speare's age to take one's way where he was. So 
afterwards in 619, " The enemy, marching along by 
them " (that is, through the country of the people 
between this and Philippi). 

200. r II fashion him. — I will shape his mind to 
our purposes. 

201. The morning comes upon 7is. — It may just 
be noted that all the old copies have " upon's." And 
probably such an elision would not have been thought 
inelegant at any time in the seventeenth century. 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 231 

202. Let not our looks fut on ozir purposes. — Put 
on such expression as would betray our purposes. 
Compare the exhortation of the strong-minded wife 
of Macbeth to her husband (^Macbeth^ i? 5) = — 

To beguile the time, 
Look like the time : bear welcome in jour eje, 
Your hand, your tongue ; look like the innocent flower, 
But be the serpent under it. 

But the sentiment takes its boldest form from the lips 
of Macbeth himself in the first fervor of his weak- 
ness exalted into determined wickedness (i. 7) : — 

Away, and mock the time with fairest show : 

False face must hide what the false heart doth know. 

202. Formal constancy. — Constancy in outward 
form, or aspect ; the appearance, at any rate, of 
perfect freedom from anxiety and the weight of 
our great design. The original stage direction is, 
'•''Exeutit. Manet Brutus." 

202. The heavy honey-dew of shtmber. — This is 
the correction by Mr. Collier's MS. annotator of the 
old reading, " the honey-heavy dew." I cannot doubt 
that it gives us what Shakespeare wrote. " The 
compound," as Mr. Collier remai^ks, " unquestiona- 
bly is not ho7iey-heavy ., but hojiey-dezu^ a well-known 
glutinous deposit upon the leaves of trees, etc. ; the 
compositor was guilty of a transposition." We have 
a trace, it might be added, of some confusion or in- 
distinctness in the manuscript, perhaps occasioned 
by an interlineation, and of the perplexity of the 
compositor, in the strange manner in which in the 
First Folio the dew also, as well as the heavy, is 
attached by a hyphen ; thus, " the hony-heauy-Dew." 
[Hudson follows Collier. Dyce reads " honey heavy 
dew," that is, as he explains it, " honeyed and heavy." 
White has " honey-heavy dew," etc., " that is, slum- 



232 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

ber as refreshing as dew, and whose heaviness is 
sweet." It may be noted in support of Collier's 
emendation, that in Titus Andronicus^ iii. i, Shake- 
speare has the expression " honey-dew : " — 

fresh tears 

Stood on her cheeks, as doth the honey-dew 
Upon a gathered lily almost withered.] 

202. Thou hast no figures^ etc. — Pictui'es created 
by imagination or apprehension. So in The Merry 
Wives of Windsor^ iv. ^, Mrs. Page, to Mrs. Ford's 
" Shall we tell our husbands how we have served 
him (Falstaft') ? " replies, " Yes, by all means ; if it 
be but to scrape the figures out of your husband's 
brains." 

205. Tou've ungently. — All the Folios have 
IT have; which, however, was perhaps not pro- 
nounced differently from the modern elision adopted 
in the present text. As that elision is still common, 
it seems unnecessary to substitute the full Tou have^ 
as most of the recent editors have done. 

205. Stole from my bed. — See 46. 

205. Which sometime hath his hotcr. — That is, 
its hour. See 54. 

205. Wafture of yotir hatid. — Wafter is the 
form of the word in all the Folios. 

205. Fearing to strengthen that impatience. — 
For the prosody of such lines see the note on 246. 

205. An effect of humour. — Htcnior is the pe- 
culiar mood, or caprice, of the moment ; a state of 
mind opposed or exceptional to the general disposi- 
tion and character. 

205. As it hath much prevailed on your con- 
dition. — Condition is the general temper or state 
of mind. We still say ill-conditioned., for ill-tem- 
pered. Thus, in The Merchant of Venice., i. 2, 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 233 

Portia makes the supposition that her suitor the 
black Prince of Morocco, although his complexion 
be that of a devil, may have " the condition of a 
saint." Note how vividly the strong feeling from 
which Portia speaks is expressed by her repetition 
of the much — "could it work so much As it hath 
much prevailed." 

205. Dear my lord. — So, in RojJteo atid yuliet^ 
iii. 5, Juliet implores her mother, " O, sweet my 
mother, cast me not away ! " For the principle upon 
vi'hich this form of expression is to be explained, see 
the note on 89. Though now disused in English, it 
corresponds exactly to the French Cher Monsieur. 
The personal pronoun in such phrases has become 
absorbed in the noun to which it is prefixed, and its 
proper or separate import is not thought of. A re- 
markable instance, in another form of construction, 
of how completely the pronoun in such established 
modes of speech was formerly apt to be overlooked, 
or treated as non-significant, occui"s in our common 
version of the Bible, where, in i Kings xviii. 7, we 
have, " And as Obadiah was in the way, behold, 
Elijah met him: "and he knew him, and fell on his 
face, and said. Art thou that my lord Elijah ? " 
Still more extraordinaiy is what we have in Troilus 
and Cressida, v. 2, where (Ulysses having also 
addressed Troilus, " Nay, good my lord, go off") 
Cressida exclaims to herself, — 

Ah ! poor our sex ! this fault in us I find, 
The error of our eye directs our mind. 

209. [/y Brtitus sick? — White i^emarks, "For 
sick., the correct English adjective to express all 
degrees of suffering from disease, and which is uni- 
versally used in the Bible and by Shakespeare, the 
Englishman 01 Great Britain has poorly substituted 



234 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

the adverb ?7/." Compare Gen. xlviii. i ; i Sam. 
xix. 14; XXX. 13, etc.] 

209. Is it physical? — Medicinal. 

209. Of the dank mo7-ning. — The Second Folio 
changes dank into dark. 

209. To add zmto his sickness. — His is mis- 
printed kit in the First Folio. So in Macbeth., i. 5, 
we have, in the same original text, " the effect and 
hit" apparently for "the effect and it" (the pur- 
pose), — although the misprint, if it be one, is re- 
peated in the Second Folio, and is, as far as we can 
gather from Mr. Collier, left uncorrected by his MS. 
annotator. It is even defended by Tieck as probably 
the true reading. It cannot, at any rate, be received 
as merely a different way of spelling it., deliberately 
adopted in this instance and nowhere else through- 
out the volume : such a view of the matter is the 
very Qtiixotism of the belief in the immaculate pu- 
rity of the old text. 

209. Toil have so?ne sick offence. — Some pain, 
or grief, that makes you sick. 

209. By the I'ight and virtue of my place. — By 
the right that belongs to, and (as we now say) in 
virtue of (that is, by the power or natural prerogative 
of) my place (as your wife). The old spelling of 
the English word, and that which it has here in the 
First Folio, is verttie., as we still have it in the 
French vertu. 

209. I charm you. — Charm (or charme) is the 
reading of all the old printed copies. Pope substi- 
tuted charge., which was adopted also by Hanmer. 
It must be confessed that the only instance which has 
been referred to in support of charm is not satisfac- 
tory. It is adduced by Steevens from Cymbeline, i. 
7, where lachimo says to Imogen, — 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 235 

'Tis your graces 
That fi-om my mutest conscience to mytongue 
Charms this report out. 

This is merely the common application of the verb 
to charm in the sense of to produce any kind of ef- 
fect as it were by incantation. Charm is from car- 
men^ as incafitation or enchanttnent is from caiio. 
In the passage before us, I charm yozi (if such be the 
reading) must mean I adjure or conjure you. Spen- 
ser uses charm with a meaning which it does not 
now retain ; as when he says in his Shepherd' s Kal- 
endar {October^ 118)5 "Here we our slender pipes 
may safely charm" and, in the beginning of his 
Colin Clotifs Come Home Agai7i^ speaks of" charm- 
ing his oaten pipe unto his peers," that is, playing 
or modulating (not uttering musical sounds, as ex- 
plained by Nares, but making to utter them). Still 
more peculiar is the application of the word by Mar- 
vel in a short poem entitled "The Picture of T. C. 
in a prospect of flowers : " — 

Meanwhile, whilst every verdant thing 
Itself does at thy beauty charm ; — 

that is, apparently, delights itself in contemplating 
thy beauty. We do not now use this veib thus re- 
flectively at all. There seems, however, to have 
been formerly a latitude in the application of it which 
may possibly have extended to such a sense as that 
which must be assigned to it if it was really the word 
here employed by Portia. — Two stage directions 
are added here by Mr. Collier's MS. annotator : 
'''•Kneeli7ig" where Portia says, "Upon my knees I 
charm you ; " and ^'•Raising her" at 210. 

211. But^ as it tuere^ in sort, or limitation. — 
Only in a manner, in a degree, in some qualified or 
limited sense. We still say in a sort. 



3 



236 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

211. To keep with yoti^ etc. — To keep company 
with you. To keep in the sense of to live or dwell 
is of constant occurrence in our old writers ; and 
Nares observes that they still say in the University 
of Cambridge, Where do you keep? I keep in such 
a set of chambers. We sometimes hear it asserted 
that the word comfort^ as well as the thing, is exclu- 
sively English. But it is also an old French word, 
though bearing rather the sense of our law term to 
comfort^ which is to relieve, assist, or encourage. 
And it exists, also, both in the Italian and in the 
Spanish. Its origin is an ecclesiastical Latin verb con- 
forto (from con and jfortz's), meaning to strengthen. 

[The Hebrew word rendered comfort in yob ix. 
27 and X. 30, is translated " to recover strength," Ps. 
xxxix. 13, and " strengthen," Amos v. 9. In the 
truce between England and Scotland in the reign of 
Richard III. it was provided that neither of the kings 
" shall maintayne, fauour, ayde, or comfort any reb- 
ell or trey tour " (Hall, Rich. III')i and shortly after 
we read, " King Charles promised him aide and com- 
fort, and bad him to be of good courage and to make 
good chere." In Wiclif's Bible, Isa. xli. 7^ we have, 
"And he coumfortide hym with nailes, that it shoulde 
not be moued." And in Phil. iv. 13, " I may alle 
thingis in him that comfortith me." See Bible Word' 
Book.'] 

311. And talk to yott so?netimes, etc. — The true 
prosodical view of this line is to regard the two com- 
binations " to you " and " in the " as counting each 
for only a single syllable. It is no more an Alexan- 
di'ine than it is an hexameter. 

212. [^As dear to me, etc. — Gray has adopted 
these words in The Bard: — 

Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart. 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 237 

Some critics see here an anticipation of Harvey's dis- 
covery of the circulation of the blood.] 

213. [^A vjoman well reputed^ etc. — Staunton 
punctuates thus : " A woman, well-reputed Cato's 
daughter ; " that is, a woman, daughter of the much- 
esteemed Cato. Few readers, I think, will approve 
the emendation.] 

213. Being so fathered and so husbanded. — We 
have here two exemplifications of the remarkable 
power which our language possesses (though a con- 
sequence of its poverty of inflection, or of the loss of 
their distinctive terminations by the infinitive and 
present indicative of the verb) of turning almost any 
noun, upon occasion, into a verb. It may be called 
its most kingly prerogative, and may be compared to 
the right of ennobling exercised b}' the crown in the 
English political constitution, — the more, inasmuch 
as words too, as well as men, were originally, it is 
probable, all of equal rank, and the same word served 
universally as noun at one time and as verb at an- 
other. Most of our verbs that are of purely English 
or Gothic descent are still in their simplest form un- 
distinguishable from nouns. The noun and the verb 
might be exhibited together in one system of inflec- 
tion ; father^ for instance, might be at once declined 
and conjugated, through fathered^ and fathermg^ 
and have fathered., and will father., and all the oth- 
er moods and tenses, as well as "Caxoxx^y fathers and 
father's., and of a father., and to a father., and the 
other so called uo7ninal changes. It is to this their 
identity of form with the noun that our English verbs 
owe in a great measure their peculiar force and live- 
liness of expression, consisting as that does in their 
power of setting before us, not merely the fact that 
something has been done or is doing, but the act or 



238 Philological Commentary, [act ii* 

process itself as a concrete thing or picture. Shake- 
speare in particular freely employs any noun what- 
ever as a verb. 

It is interesting to note the germ of what we have 
here in The Mei-chant of Venice (i. 2) : — 

Her name is Portia; nothing undervalued 
To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia. 

The Merchant of Venice had certainly been writ- 
ten by 1598. 

213. I have made strong f roof . — The prosody 
concurs here with the sense in demanding a strong 
emphasis upon the word strong. 

214. All the charactery. — All that is charac- 
tered or expressed by my saddened aspect. The 
word, which occurs also in the Merry Wives of 

Windsor^ v. 5, is accented on the second syllable 
there as well as here. And no doubt this was also 
the original, as it is still the vulgar, accentuation of 
character, Shakespeare, however, always accents 
that word on the char-,, as we do, whether he uses it 
as a noun or as a verb ; though a doubt may be enter- 
tained as to the pronunciation of the participial form 
both in the line, " Are visibly charactered and en- 
graved," in The Two Gentletnen of Verona^ ii. 7? 
and in the " Show me one scar charactered on the 
skin" of 2 Henry VI. iii. i, as well as with regard 
to that of the compound which occurs in Troilus and 

Cressida., iii. 2 : — 

And mighty states characterless are grated 
To dusty nothing. 

— The stage direction near the beginning of this 
speech is merely Knock in the original edition. 

214. Lucius.1 whds that knocks? — Who is that 
who knocks ? The omission of the relative is a fa- 
miliar ellipsis. See 34. Whds and not who is,, is 



sc. I.] ' Julius C^sar. 239 

the reading of all the Folios. It is unnecessary to 
suppose that the two broken lines were intended to 
make a whole between them. They are best regard- 
ed as distinct hemistichs. [See 54, 55.] 

217. The Lig- (for Ligarhis) is Cai. throughout 
in the original text. The authority for the prasno- 
men Caius, by which Ligarius is distinguished 
throughout the Play, is Plutarch, in his Life oi J3ru- 
tus^ towards the beginning. 

2 1 8. To wear a kerchief. — Kerchief '\% cover- 
chiefs the chief being, the French chef^ head (from 
the Latin Ca/-ut, which is also the same word with 
the English Head and the German Haupf). But, 
the proper import of chief being forgotten or neg- 
lected, the name kerchief came to be given to any 
cloth used as a piece of dress. In this sense the 
word is still familiar in handkerchiefs though both 
kerchief itself and its other compound neckerchief 
are nearly gone out. In King John^ iv. i, and also 
in As Toil Like It, iv. 3 and v. 2, the word in the 
early editions is handkercher ; and this is likewise 
the form in the Qiiarto edition of Othello. [In 
Chaucer we have sometimes the form keverchef or 
coverchief (Tyrwhitt), as in C. T. Prol. 455 : — 

Here keverchefs weren ful fjne of ground. 
In the Scottish we find the form curch : — 

Ane fair quhyt curch shoo puttis upoun hir heid. 

Dunbar. "^ 
221. Thou^ like an exorcist. — " Here," says 
Mason, " and in all other places where the word 
occurs in Shakespeare, to exorcise means to raise 
spirits, not to lay them ; and I believe he is singular 
in his acceptation of it." The only other instances 
of its occurrence, according to Mrs. Clarke, are, in 
the Song in Cymbeline^ iv. 2 : — 



340 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

No exerciser harm thee ! 

Nor no witchcraft charm thee ! 

in All's Well that Ends Well, v. 3, where, on the 
appearance of Helena, thought to be dead, the King 

exclaims, — 

Is there no exorcist 
Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes ? 

and in 2 Henry VI. i. 4, where Bolingbroke asks, 
" Will her ladyship behold and hear our exorcisms ? " 
meaning the incantations and other operations by 
which they were to raise certain spirits. — In Mr. 
Collier's regulated text, in this speech, at the words 
" Soul of Rome," we have the stage direction, 
" Throvjing away his bandage." 

221. My mortified spirit. — Mor-tifi-ed here 
makes four syllables, spii'it counting for only one. 
And mortified has its literal meaning of deadened. 

224. As we are going To whom, it must be done. — 1 1 
While we are on our way to those whom it must be f | 
done to. The ellipsis is the same as we have in 105, 

" From that it is disposed." I do not understand 
how the words are to be interpreted if we are to 
separate going from what follows by a comma, as 
is done in most editions. 

225. Set on your foot. — This was proHbably all 
somewhat energetic or emphatic mode of expression. ■ ■ 
In Scotland they say, " Put down your foot" in ex- 
horting one to walk on briskly. — At the end of this 
speech the old copies have Thunder as a stage di- 
rection. 

Scene II. The same. A Room in Ccesar's Pal- 
ace. — This is not in the old editions ; but the stage 
direction that follows is, only with Julius Ccesar 
(for Ccesar). 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 241 

227. Nor heaven nor earthy etc. — This use of 
nor . . . nor for the usual neither . . . nor of prose 
(as well as of <?r . . . or for either . . . or) is still 
common in our poetry. On the other hand, either 
was sometimes used formerly in cases where we now 
always have or ; as in Luke vi. 42 : " Why be- 
holdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, 
but perceivest not the beam that is in thine own eye ? 
Either how canst thou say to thy brother, Brother, 
let me pull out the mote that is in thine eye, when 
thou thyself beholdest not the beam that is in thine 
own eye ? " — The strict grammatical principle would 
of course require " has been at peace ; " but where, 
as here, the two singular substantives are looked at 
together by the mind, it is more natural to regard 
them as making a plurality, and to use the plural 
verb, notwithstanding the disjunctive conjunction (as 
it is sometimes oddly designated). 

229. Do present sacrifice. — In this and a good 
many other cases we are now obliged to employ a 
verb of a more specific character instead of the gen- 
eral do. This is a different kind of archaism from 
what we have in the " do danger " of 147, where it 
is not the do^ but the danger., that has a meaning 
which it has now lost, and for which the modern 
language uses another word. 

229. Their opinions of success. — That is, merely, 
of the issue, or of what is prognosticated by the sac- 
rifice as likely to hapjDen. Johnson remarks (note 
on Othello., iii. 3) that successo is also so used in 
Italian. So likewise is succes in French. In addi- 
tion to earlier examples of such a sense of the Eng- 
lish word, Boswell adduces from Sidney's Arcadia, 
" He never answered me, but, pale and quaking, 
went straight away ; and straight my heart misgave 
16 



242 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

me some evil success ;" and from Dr. Barrow, in the 
latter part of the seventeenth century, " Yea, to a 
person so disposed, that success which seemeth most 
adverse justly may be reputed the best and most 
happy." Shakespeare's ordinary employment of 
the word, however, is accordant with our present 
visage. But see 734, 735. Sometimes it is used in 
the sense of our modern sticcession ; as in A Winter's 
Tale, i. 2 : " Our parents' noble names. In whose 
success we are gentle." In the same manner the 
verb to succeed, though meaning etymologically no 
more than to follow, has come to be commonly un- 
derstood, when used without qualification, only in a 
good sense. We still say that George II. succeeded 
George I., and could even, perhaps, say that a person 
or thing had succeeded very ill ; but when we say 
simply, that anything has succeeded, we mean that 
it has had a prosperous issue. 

Shakespeare's use of the word success may be 
further illustrated by the following examples : — 

Is your blood 
So madly hot that no discourse of reason, 
Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause, 
Can qualify the same? — Troil. and Cress, ii. 2. 
Commend me to my brother : soon at night 
I'll send him certain word of my success. 

Meas.for Meas. i. 5. 
Let this be so, and doubt not but success 
Will fashion the event in better shape 
Than I can lay it down in likelihood. 

Muck Ado About Nothing, iv. I. 
And so success of mischief shall be born. 
And heir from heir shall hold this quarrel up 

2 Henry IV. iv. 2. 
Should you do so, my lord, 
My speech should fall into such vile success 
Which my thoughts aimed not. — Othello, ii'. 3. 



i| 



sc. 11.] Julius C^sar. 243 

233. I never stood on ceremonies. — See 194. 

233. Recounts most horrid sights. — Who re- 
counts. As in 34 and 214. 

233. The noise of battle hurtled in the air. — 

The three last Folios substitute hurried for hurtled. 

Hurtle is probably the same word with hurl (of 

which, again, whirl may be another variation). 

Chaucer uses it- as an active verb, in the sense of 

to push forcibly and with violence ; as in C. T, 

2618,— 

And he him hurtleth with his hors adoun ; — 

and again in C. T. 47^7' — 

O firste moving cruel firmament! 
With thj diurnal swegh that croudest ay, 
And hurtlest all from est til Occident, 
That naturally wold hold another way. 

Its very sound makes it an expressive word for any 
kind of rude and crushing, or " insupportably ad- 
vancing," movement. 

233. Horses did neigh^ and dying 7tien did 
groan. — This is the reading of the Second and sub- 
sequent Folios. The first has " Horses do neigh, 
and dying men did grone." We may confidently 
affirm that no degree of mental agitation ever ex- 
pressed itself in any human being in such a jumble 
and confusion of tenses as this, — not even insanity 
or drunkenness. The " Fierce fiery warriors fight 
upon the clouds" [White reads yi??^^///], which we 
have a few lines before, is not a case in point. It is 
perfectly natural in animated narrative or description 
to rise occasionally from the past tense to the pres- 
ent ; but who ever heard of two facts or circumstances 
equally past, strung together, as here, with an and., 
and enunciated in the same breath, being presented 
the one as now going on, the other as only having 
taken plac^? 



244 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

233. And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the 
streets. — It is rare to find Shakespeare coming so 
near upon the same words in two places as he does 
here and in dealing with the same subject in Ham- 
let., i. I : — 

In the most high and palmy state of Rome, 

A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, 

The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead 

Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets. 

This passage, however, is found only in the Qiiarto 
editions of Hamlet., and is omitted in all the Folios. 

233. Beyond all use. — We might still say "be- 
yond all use and wont." 

234. Whose end is purposed., etc. — The end, or 
completion, of which is designed by the gods. 

236. What say the augurers? — See 194. The 
preceding stage direction is in the original edition, 
'"'' Enter a Servant." 

238. In shatne of cowardice. — For the shame of 
cowardice, to put cowardice to shame. 

238. Ccesar should be a beast. — We should now 
say Csesar would be a beast. It is the same use of 
shall where we now use will that has been noticed at 
181. So in Merchaitt of Venice., i. 2, Nerissa, con- 
versing with her mistress Portia about her German 
suitor, the nephew of the Duke of Saxony, says, " If 
he should ofler to choose, and choose the right casket, 
you should refuse to perform your father's will, if 
you should refuse to accept him." Yet the fashion 
of saying It should appear, or It should seem (in- 
stead of It wozild)., which has come up with the 
revived study of our old literature, is equally at vari- 
ance with the principle by which our modern em- 
ployment oi shall and will is regulated. 

238. We are two lions. — The old reading, in all 



w 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 245 

the Folios, is We heare (or hear in the Third and 
Fourth). Nobody, as for as I am aware, has de- 
fended it, or affected to be able to make any sense of 
it. Theobald proposed We were, which has been 
generally adopted. But We are, as recommended 
by Ujiton, is at once nearer to the original and much 
more spirited. It is a singularly happy restoration, 
and one in regard to which, I conceive, there can 
scarcely be the shadow of a doubt. [Collier, Dyce, 
and White have are ; Hudson, ivere.'^ 

239. Is consumed in conjidence. — As anything is 
consumed in fire. 

240. For thy Jntinottr. — For the gratification of 
thy whim or caprice. See 205. Mr. Collier's MS. 
annotator directs that Caesar should here raise Cal- 
phurnia, as he had that she should deliver the last 
line of her preceding speech kneeling. 

241. Ccesar, all hail I — Hail in this sense is the 
Saxon hael or hdl, meaning hale, whole, or healthy 
(the modern German hcil). It ought rather to be 
spelled hale. Hail, frozen rain, is from haegl, 
haegel, otherwise hagol, hagul, or haegol (in mod- 
ern German hagel). 

242. To bear my greeting. — To greet in this 
sense is the Saxon gretan, to go to meet, to welcome, 
to salute {\}i\Q grussen of the modern German). The 
greet of the Scotch and other northern dialects, which 
is found in Spenser, represents quite another Saxon 
\txh, greotan ox graetan, to lament. 

244. To be afeard. — The common Scotch form 
for afraid is s,\\\\yeared, ox fear d, from the verb to 
fear, taken in the sense of to make afraid ; in which 
sense it is sometimes found in Shakespeare ; as in 
Measure for Measure.^ ii. i : — 



246 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 



We must not make a scarecrow of the law, 
Setting it up to fear the beasts of prey; 

And in Antony and Cleopatra^ ii. 6, — 

Thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with thy sails 

In The Taming of the Shreiv, i. 2, we have in a 
single line (oi- two hemistichs) both senses of the 
verb to fear: " Tush ! tush ! fear boys with bugs," 
says Petruchio in scorn ; to which his servant Gru- 
mio rejoins, aside^ " For he fears none." 

246. That is enough to satisfy the senate. — Not 
(as the words might in other circumstances mean) 
enough to insure their being satisfied, but enough 
for me to do towards that end. 

246. She dreamt to-night she saw my statue. — 
It may be mentioned that both Rowe and Pope sub- 
stitute last night., which would, indeed, seem to be 
the most natural expression ; but it is unsupported 
by any of the old copies. — The word statue is of 
frequent occurrence in Shakespeare ; and in general 
it is undoubtedly only a dissyllable. In the present 
Play, for instance, in the very next speech we have 

Your statue spouting blood in many pipes. 
And so likewise in 138, and again in 377. Only in 
one line, which occurs in Richard III. iii. 7, — 

But like dumb statues or breathing stones, — 
is it absolutely necessary that it should be regarded 
as of three syllables, if the received reading be cor- 
rect. In that passage also, however, as in every 
other, the word in the First Folio is printed simply 
statues., exactly as it always is in the English which 
we now write and speak. 

On the other hand, it is certain that statzte was 
frequently written statua in Shakespeai-e's age ; Ba- 
con, for example, always, I believe, so writes it ; and 



A 



sc. II.] Julius C.4;sar. 247 

it is not impossible that its full pronunciation may 
have been always trisyllabic, and that it became a 
dissyllable only by the two short vowels, as in other 
cases, being run together so as to count prosodically 
only for one. 

" From authors of the times," says Reed, in a note 
on The Two Gentle7ne7z of Verona^ iv. 4, " it would 
not be difficult to fill whole pages with instances to 
prove that statue was at that period a trisyllable." 
But unfortunately he does not favor us with one such 
instance. Nor, with the exception of the single line 
in Richard III.^ the received reading of which has 
been suspected for another reason {breathing stones 
being not improbably, it has been thought, a mis- 
print for unbreathing stones), has any decisive in- 
stance been produced either by Steevens, who refei-s 
at that passage to what he designates as Reed's 
" very decisive note," or by any of the other com- 
mentators anywhere, or by Nares, who also com- 
mences his account of the word in his Glossary by 
telling us that it " was long used in English as a 
trisyllable." 

The only other lines in Shakespeare in which it 
has been conceived to be other than a word of two 
syllables are the one now under examination, and 
another which also occurs in the present Play, in 

425: — 

Even at the base of Pompej's statue. 

These two lines, it will be observed, are similarly 
constructed in so far as this word is concerned ; in 
both the supposed trisyllable concludes the verse. 

Now, we have many verses terminated in exactly 
the same manner by other words, and yet it is very 
far from being certain that such verses were intended 



248 Philological Commentary, [act 11. 

to be accounted verses of ten syllables, or were ever 
so pronounced. 

First, there is the whole class of those ending with 
words in tion or sio7i. This termination, it is true, 
usvially makes two syllables in Chaucer, and it may 
do so sometimes, though it does not generally, in 
Spenser ; it is frequently dissyllabic, in indisputable 
instances, even with some of the dramatists of the 
early part of the seventeenth century, and particularly 
with Beaumont and Fletcher [and so in Milton, II 
Penseroso^ Hymn on the Nativity^ etc.] ; but it is 
only on the rarest occasions that it is other than 
monosyllabic in the middle of the line with Shake- 
speare. Is it, then, to be supposed that he employed 
it habitually as a dissyllable at the end of a line? 
It is of continual occurrence in both positions. 
For example, in the following line of the present 

speech, — 

But for your private satisfaction, — 

can we think that the concluding word was intended 
to have any different pronunciation from that which 
it has in the line of Romeo and jftiliet (ii. 2), — 

What satisfaction canst thou have to-night? 
or in this other from Othello (iii. 3), — 

But for a satisfaction of my thought? 
Is it probable that it was customary then, any more 
than it is now, to divide tion into two syllables in the 
one case more than in the other? 

Secondly, there are numerous verses terminating 
with the verbal affix ed, the sign of the preterite in- 
dicative active or of the past participle passive. This 
termination is not circumstanced exactly as tion is : 
the utterance of it as a separate syllable is the rare 
exception in our modern pronunciation ; but it evi- 



sc. II.] Julius C-^esar. 249 

dently was not so in Shakespeare's day ; the distinct 
syllabication of the ed would rather seem to have 
been almost as common then as its absorption in the 
preceding syllable. For instance, when Juliet, in 
Romeo and "Jul let ^ iii. 2, repeating the Nurse's 
words, exclaims, — 

Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished : 
That banished — that one word banished — 
Hath stain ten thousand Tybalts, — 

the ed in That bajizshed clearly makes a distinct 
syllable ; and, that being the case, it must be held to 
be equally such in the two other repetitions of the 
word. But in other cases its coalescence with the 
preceding syllable will only pi'oduce the same effect 
to which we are accustomed when we disregard the 
antiquated pronunciation of the Hon at the end of a 
line, and read it as one syllable. In the present 
Play, for example, it might be so read in 304, — 

Thy brother by decree is banished, — 

as it was probably intended (in another prosodical 
position) to be read afterwards in 309, — ^ 

That I was constant Cimber should be banished, — 
and as it must be read in 305, — 

For the repealing of my banished brother. 

Yet, although most readers in the present day would 
elide the e in all the three instances, it ought to be 
observed that in the original edition the word is 
printed in full in the first and with the apostrophe in 
the two others. And this distinction in the printing 
is employed to indicate the pronunciation through- 
out the volume. How such a line as 

Thy brother by decree is banished, — 
being a very common prosodical form in Shake- 



250 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

speare, — was intended by him to be read, or was 
commonly read in his day, must therefore remain 
somewhat doubtful. If, however, the e was elided 
in the pi-onunciation, such verses would be prosodi- 
cally exactly of the same form or structure with those, 
also of very frequent occurrence, in which all that 
we have for a fifth foot is the affix or termination 
tion^ on the assumption that that was pronounced 
only as one syllable. 

One way of disposing of such lines would be to 
regard them, as a species of hemistich or truncated 
line. Verses which, although not completed, are 
correctly constructed as far as they go, occur in every 
Play in great numbers and of all dimensions ; and 
those in question would be such verses wanting the 
last syllable, as others do the two or three or four or 
five last. This explanation would take in the case 
of the lines, " She dreamt to-night she saw my 
statue," and "Even at the base of Pompey's statue," 
and of others similarly constructed, supposing statue 
to be only a dissyllable, as well as all those having 
in the last foot only tioti or ed. But most probably 
this particular kind of truncated line, consisting of 
nine syllables, would not occur so frequently as it 
does but for the influence exerted by the memory of 
the old pronunciation of the two terminations just 
mentioned even after it had come to be universally 
or generally disused. For instance, although the 
word satisfaction had already come in the age of 
Shakespeare to be generally pronounced exactly as 
it is at the present day, the line " But for your 
private satisfaction " was the more readily accepted 
as a sufficient verse by reason of the old syllabication 
of the word, which, even by those who had aban- 
doned it (as Shakespeare himself evidently had 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 251 

done), was not forgotten. Other lines having 
nothing more for their tenth syllable than the verbal 
affix ed^ in which also an elision had become usual, 
would be acted upon in the same manner ; the ed 
would still retain something of the effect of a sepa- 
rate syllable even when it had ceased to be generally 
so pronounced. But after the public ear had thus 
become reconciled and accustomed to such a form 
of verse, it might be expected to be sometimes 
indulged in by poetic writers when it had to be 
produced in another way than through the instru- 
mentality of the half separable ed and the half 
dissyllabic tion. The line " But for your private 
satisfaction," pronounced as we have assumed it to 
have been, would make such a line as " She dreamt 
to-night she saw my statue " seem to have an equal 
right to be accounted legitimate, seeing that its effect 
upon the ear was precisely the same. Still the con- 
servative principle in language would keep the later 
and more decided deviation from the normal form 
comparatively infrequent. Sometimes a singular 
effect of suddenness and abruptness is pi^oduced by 
such a form of verse ; as in the sharp appeal of 
Menenius, in the opening scene of Coriolanus^ to 
the loud and grandiloquent leader of the mutinous 
citizens, — 

What Ao you think, 
You, the great toe of this assembly? 

Unless, indeed, we are to assume the verse here to 
be complete and regular, and that assembly is to be 
read as a word of four syllables, as-sem-bl-y. In the 
present Play, however, at 294, we have an instance 
to which that objection does not apply. The line 
there — " Look, how he makes to Caesar : mark 
him " — is of precisely the same rhythm with " She 



252 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

dreamt to-night she saw my statue," and also with 
the one by which it is immediately preceded — " I 
fear our purpose is discovered" (in 293), as well as 
with " He says he does ; being then most flattered " 
(in 195), and many others, read (as it is probable 
they were intended to be) without the distinct syl- 
labication of the ed. 

After all, Shakespeare's word may really have 
been statua^ as Reed and Steevens suppose. This 
is decidedly the opinion of Mr. Dyce, who, in his 
Remarks 07i Mr. Collier's and Mr. Knighfs edi' 
tions (p. 186), calls attention to the following line 
from a copy of verses by John Harris, prefixed to 
the 1647 Folio of the Plays of Beaumont and 
Fletcher : — 

Defaced statua and martyr'd book. 

" I therefore have not," he adds, " the slightest doubt 
that wherever i'/a/z/e occurs, while the metre requires 
three syllables, it is a typographical error for statua." 
Perhaps the best way would be to print statua in all 
cases, and to assume that that was the form which 
Shakespeare always wrote. Statua would have the 
prosodical value either of a dissyllable or of a tris- 
yllable according to circumstances, just as Mantua^ 
for instance, has throughout Romeo and jfuliet^ 
where we have in one place such a line as 

For then thou canst not pass to Mantu-a (iii. 3), 
or 

But I will write again to Mantu-a (v. 2), 

and in another such as 

Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man (iii. 3), 
or 

So that my speed to Mantua there was stayed (v. 2). 

We have a rare example of the termination Hon 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 253 

forming a dissyllable with Shakespeare in the middle 
of a line in Jaques's description of the Fool Touch- 
stone {As You Like li, ii. 2) : — 

He hath strange places crammed 
With observation, the which he vents 
In mangled forms. 

This may be compared with the similar prolonga- 
tion of the -trance in the sublime chant of Lady 
Macbeth {Macbeth, i. 5), — 

The raven himself is hoarse 
That croaks the fatal etitrance of Duncan 
Under mj battlements, — 

or with what we have in the following line in The 
Two Geiitle7}ie7t of Veroiia, ii. 4, — 

And that hath dazzled mj reason's light, — 

or with this in A Midsum7ner Nighfs Dream^ 
iii. 2, — 

O me ! you juggler ! you canker-blossom. 

The name Henry, in like manner, occasionally oc- 
curs as a trisyllable both in the three Parts of He7iry 
VI., and also in Richard III. 

The following are examples of what is much more 
common — the extension or division of similar com- 
binations at the end of a line : — 

The parts and graces of the w^restler. 

As Tou Like It, ii. 2. 

And lasting, in her sad remembrance. 

Tivelftk Night, i. l. 

The like of him. Know'st thou this country? 

Ibid., i. 3. 

Which is as bad as die with tickling. 

Much Ado About Nothing, iii. I. 

O, how this spring of love resembleth. 

Tvjo Gent, of Ver., i. 3. 



254 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

And these two Dromios, one in semblance. 

Coin, of Err.., i. i. 
These are the parents to these children. — Ibid. 

Fair sir, and you, my merry mistress. 

Tarn, of Shrew, iv. 5. 

In other cases, however, the line must apparently be 
held to be a regular hemistich (or truncated verse) 
of nine syllables ; as in 

Of our dear souls. Meantime, sweet sister. 

Twelfth Night, v. i. 

I'll follow you and tell what answer. 

3 Hefiry VI., iv. 3. 

Be valued 'gainst 3'our wife's commandment. 

Mer. of Veil., iv. i. 

Unless, indeed, in this last instance we ought not to 
I'ead commandement (in four syllables), as Spenser 
occasionally has it ; although I am not aware of the 
occurrence of such a form of the word elsewhere in 
Shakespeare. 

246. And these does she apply yor ■warning's and 
porteiits. — This is the reading of all the Folios. It 
is not quite satisfactory ; and the suspected corrup- 
tion has been attempted to be cured in various ways. 
Shakespeare's habitual accentuation oi. portent seems 
to have been on the last syllable. If the passage 
were in any one of certain others of the Plays, I 
should be inclined to arrange the lines as follows : — 

And these does she apply for warnings and 
Portents of evils imminent; and on her knee 
Hath begged that I will stay at home to-day. 

The crowding of short syllables which this would 
occasion in the second line is much less harsh and 
awkward than what the received arrangement pro- 
duces in the first. But so slight a monosyllable as 
and in the tenth place would give us a structure of 



sc. II.] Julius Caesar. 255 

verse of which, although common in several of the 
other Plays, we have no example in this. See Prol- 
egomejza^ sect. vi. 

246. Of evils imminent. — This conjectural emen- 
dation, which appears to be Warburton's, had long 
been generally accepted ; but it has now the author- 
ity of Mr. Collier's manuscript annotator. The read- 
ing in all the old copies is '•'•And evils." [Dyce, 
Hudson,* and White have and.'\ 

247. For tinctia'cs.^ etc. — Tinctures and stains 
are understood both by Malone and Steevens as 
carrying an allusion to the practice of persons dip- 
ping their handkerchiefs in the blood of those whom 
they regarded as inartyrs. And it must be confessed 
that the general strain of the passage, and more 
especially the expression " shall ^r^j'i' for tinctures," 
etc., will not easily allow us to reject this interpreta- 
tion. Yet does it not make the speaker assign to 
Cassar by implication the very kind of death Cal- 
phurnia's apprehension of which he pi^ofesses to re- 
gard as visionary ? The pressing for tinctures and 
stains, it is true, would be a confutation of so much 
of Calphurnia's dream as seemed to imply that the 
Roman people would be delighted with his death, — 

Many lusty Romans 
Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it. 

Do we refine too much in supposing that this incon- 
sistency between the purpose and the language of 
Decius is intended by the poet, and that in this brief 
dialogue between him and Caesar, in which the latter 
suffers himself to be so easily won over, — persuaded 
and relieved by the very words that ought naturally 
to have confirmed his fears, — we are to feel the 
presence of an unseen power driving on both the 



256 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

unconscious prophet and the blinded victim ? Com- 
pare 407. 

Johnson takes both tincttires and cognizance in 
the heraldic sense as meaning distinctive marks of 
honor and armorial bearings (in part denoted by 
colors). But the stains and relics are not so easily 
to be accounted for on this supposition ; neither 
would it be very natural to say that men should 
press to secure such distinctions. The speech alto- 
gether Johnson characterizes as " intentionally pom- 
pous " and " somew^hat confused." 

248. Apt to be rendered. — Easy and likely to be 
throw^n out in return or retaliation for your refusing 
to come. [Compare 344.] 

248. Shall they 7tot whisper? — We should now 
say " Will they not? " See 238. 

248. To your proceeding. — To your advance 
ment. So in Gloster's protestation, in Rich. III. 
iv. 4, — 

Be opposite all planets of good luck 

To my proceeding ! if with dear heart's love, 

Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts, 

I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter, — 

that is, to my prospering, as we should now say. 

248. And reason to my love is liable. — As if he 
had said, And, if I have acted wi'ong in telling you, 
my excuse is, that my reason where you are con- 
cerned is subject to and is overborne by my affec- 
tion. See 67. 

2^19. In the original stage direction the name of 
Publius stands last, instead of first. 

251. Are you stirred. — We have lost this appli- 
cation of stirred (for out of bed). The word now 
commonly used, astir., does not occur in Shake- 
speare ; and, what is remarkable, it has hitherto, 



I 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 257 

although we have long been in the habit of applying 
it freely in various other ways as well as in this 
sense, escaped all or most of our standard lexicog- 
raphers. I do not find it either in Todd's Johnson, 
or in Webster, or in Richai'dson, or in Walker, or 
in Smart. [It is given by Worcester, but is not to- 
be found in the last revision of Webster.] Of 
coui'se, the emphasis is on you. 

353. ^ Tis strucken eight. — Shakespeare uses allj 
the three forms, struck, strucken., and stricken., of 
which the existing language has preserved only the 
first. See 193. Mr. Collier has here stricken. 
Strictly speaking, of course, the mention by an old 
Roman of the striking of an hour involves an 
anachronism. Nor is the mode of expression that of 
the time when here, and in 371, what we now call 
eight and nine o'clock in the morning are spoken of 
as the eighth and ninth hours. 

253. That revels long d nights. — See 6^^. Here 
again it is a-nights in the original text. 

355. Bid them prepare. — The use o^ prepare 
thus absolutely (for to make preparation) is hardly 
now the current language, although it might not 
seem unnatural in verse, to which some assumption 
or imitation of the phraseology of the past is not 
forbidden. 

355. I have an hozir's talk, etc. — Hour is here a 
dissyllable, as such woi'ds often are. 

358. That every like is not the same. — That to 
be like a thing is not always to be that thing, — said 
in reference to Caesar's " We, like friends." So the 
old Scottish proverb, " Like's an ill mark ; " and the 
common French saying, as it has been sometimes 
converted, " Le vraisemblable n'est pas toujours le 
vrai." The remark is surely to be supposed to be 

17 



258 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

made aside, as well as that of Trebonius in 256, 
although neither is so noted in the old copies, and 
the modern editors, while they i^etain the direction 
to that effect inserted by Rowe at 256, have generally 
struck out the similar one inserted by Pope here. 
Mr. Collier, I see, gives both ; but whether on the 
authority of his MS. annotator does not appear. — 
In the same manner as here, in Measure for Meas' 
ure., V. 2, to the Duke's remark, " This is most likely" 
Isabella replies, " O that it were as like as it' is 
true." 

258. The heart of Brutus yearns to think tipon. 
— Year?is is ear7ies in the original text. It has been 
generally assumed that yearn and earn are radically I J 
the same; the progress of the meaning probably" 
being, it has been supposed, to feel strongly — to 
desire or long for — to endeavor after — to attain or 
acquii^e. But Mr. Wedgwood has lately, in a paper 
published in the Proceedings of the Philological^ 
Society^ v. 33 (No. 105, read 21 Feb., 1851), stated 
strong reasons for doubting whether there be really 
any connection between earn and either yearn or 
earnest. The fundamental notion involved in earn^ 
according to the view taken by Mr. Wedgwood, is 
that of harvest or reaping. The primary and essen- 
tial meaning oi yearn and earnest., again (which are 
unquestionably of the same stock), may be gathered 
from the modern German gem., willingly, readily, 
eagerly, which in Anglo-Saxon was georn., and was 
used as an adjective, signifying desirous, eager, in- 
tent. We now commonly employ the verb to yearn 
only in construction with for or after., and in the 
sense of to long for or desire strongly. Perhaps the 
radical meaning may not be more special than to be 
strongly afiected. In the present passage it evidently 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 259 

means to be stung or wrung with sorrow and regret. 
Shakespeare's construction of the word yearn^ in so 
far as it differs from that now in use, may be illus- 
trated by the following examples : — 

It yearns me not if men my garments wear. 

Hen. V. iv. 3. 

O, how it yearned my heart when I beheld. 

Rich. II. V. 5. 
This is the exclamation of the groom. So Mrs. 
Quickly, in The Merry Wives of Windsor., iii. 5 
(speaking also, perhaps, in the style of an unedu- 
cated person), " Well, she laments, sir, for it, that it 
would yearn your heart to see it." 

" To think upon that every like is" would not have 
been said in Shakespeare's day, any more than it 
would be in ours, except under cover of the inversion. 

Scene III. 259. Security gives ivay to. — In this 
sense (of leaving a passage open) we should now 
rather say to make way for. To give way has come 
to mean to yield and break under pressure. [Com- 
pare Milton, P. L.\. 638 foil. In Trail, and Cress. 
ii. 2, Hector says, — 

The wound of peace is surety, 
Surety secure.] 

The heading of this scene in the original text is 
merely Enter Artejnidorzis. 

Artemidorus, who was a lecturer on the Greek 
rhetoric at Rome, had, according to Plutarch, ob- 
tained his knowledge of the conspiracy from some 
of his hearers, who were friends of Brutus, that 
is, probably, through expressions unintentionally 
dropped by them. 

259. Thy lover. — As we might still say, " One 
who loves thee." It is nearly equivalent to friend, 



26o Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

and was formerly in common use in that sense. 
Thus, in Psalm xxxviii. ii, we have in the old ver- 
sion, " My lovers and my neighbours did stand look- 
ing upon my trouble," and also in the common ver- 
sion, " My lovers and my friends stand aloof from my 
sore." — So afterwards in 374 Brutus begins his 
address to the people, " Romans, countrymen, and 
lovers." See other instances from private letters in 
Chalmers's Apology^ 165. Another change, which 
has been undergone by this and some other words is 
that they are now usually applied only to men, where- 
as formerly they were common to both sexes. This 
has happened, for instance, to paramour and villain^ 
as well as to lover. But villain., as already noticed 
(186), is still a term of reproach for a woman, as well 
as for a man, in some of the provincial dialects. 
And, although we no longer call a woman a lover, 
we still say of a man and woman that they are lovers, 
or a pair of lovers. I find the term lover distinctly 
applied to a woman in so late a work as Smollett's 
Count Fathom^ published in 1754: "These were 
alarming symptoms to a lover of her delicacy and 
pride." Vol. i. ch. 10. 

259. Out of the teeth of emulation. — As envy 
(see 187) is commonly used by Shakespeare in the 
sense of hatred or malice, so emulation^ as here, is 
with him often envy or malicious rivalry. There 
ai'e instances, however, of his employing the word, 
and also the cognate terms emulator, emulate., aajj 
einulotis., not in an unfavorable sense. 

259. With traitors do contrive. — The word con- 
trive in the common acceptation is a very irregular 
derivative from the French controuver, an obsolete 
compound of trouver (to find). The English word 
appears to have been anciently written both controve 



sc. IV.] Julius C-^esar. 261 

and contreve (see Chaucer's Rom. of the Rose., 
4249 and 7547)' Spenser, however, has a learned 
contrive of his own (though somewhat irregularly- 
formed too), meaning to spend, consume, wear out, 
from the Latin contero., contrivi (from w^hich we 
have also cotitrite). And Shakespeare also, at least 
in one place, uses the word in this sense : — 

Please jou we may contrive this afternoon. 

Tarn, of Shrew, i. 2. 

Scene IV. The heading of this scene in the 
original text is only '•'•Enter Portia and Lucius." 

260. Get thee gone. — An idiom ; that is to say, 
a peculiar form of expression, the principle of which 
cannot be carried out beyond the particular instance. 
Thus we cannot say either Make thee go7ie., or He 
got him (or himself^ gone.* Phraseologies, on the 
contrary, which are not idiomatic are paradigmatic, 
or may serve as models or moulds for others to any 
extent. All expression is divided into these two 
kinds. And a corresponding division may be made 
of the inflected parts of speech in any language. 
Thus, for instance, in Greek or Latin, while certain 
parts of speech are indeclinable, those that are de- 
clined are either paradigmatic (that is, exemplary), 
such as the noun and the verb, or non-exemplary, 
such as the articles and the pronouns. 

262. O constancy. — Not exactly our present con- 

* [White asks here, "Is this true? We do not; but can 
we not? i. e. in accordance with the laws of thought and 
the principles of our language. . . . Is there any objection 
but lack of usage against ' Make thee gone,' or ' He got him 
gone' ?" Of course " lack of usage" is the only objection. 
In saying that " we cantiot,'" Craik means merely that usagi 
forbids us to say " Make thee gone," etc. ; usage, 

^uem penes arbitritim est etjtis et norma loguendi.'] 



262 Philological Commentary, [act ii. 

stancy; rather what we should now call firmness or 
resolution. In the same sense afterwards, in 296, i| 
Brutus says, " Cassius, be constant." The French 11 
have another use of constant^ — // est constant (It 
is certain), — borrowed from the Latin impersonal 
constat^ and not unknown to consto. See 309. 

262. I have a maii!s niind^ but a wonian^s might. 
— That is, but only a woman's might. 

262. Hoxv hard it is for women to keep coun- 
sel. — Counsel in this phrase is what has been im- 
parted in consultation. In the phrases To take 
coiinsel and To hold couitsel it means simply con- 
sultation. The two words Counsel and Council 
have in some of their applications got a little inter- 
iningled and confused, although the Latin Consilium 
and Concilium^ from which they are severally de- 
rived, have no connection. A rather pei'plexing 
instance occurs in a passage towards the conclusion 
of Bacon's Third Essay, entitled OJ" Unity in Re- 
ligion., which is commonly thus given in the modern 
editions : " Surely in counsels concerning religion, 
that counsel of the apostle would be prefixed — Ira 
hominis nan implet justitiam Dei." But as pub- 
lished by Bacon himself, if we may trust Mr. Singer's 
late elegant reprint, the words are, " in Councils 
concerning Religion, that Counsel of the Apostle — ." 
What are we to say, however, to the Latin version, 1 1 
executed under Bacon's own superintendence? — ^ 
" Certe optandum esset, ut in omnibus circa Reli- 
gionem consiliis, ante oculos hominum prsefigeretur 
monitum illud Apostoli." I quote from the Elzevir 
edition of 1662, p. 20. Does this support Councils 
or Counsels concerning Religion ? Other somewhat 
doubtful instances occur in the 20th Essay^ entitled 



sc. IV.] Julius C^sar. 263 

" Of Counsel," and in the 29th, " Of the True Great- 
ness of" Kingdoms and Estates." 

266. I heard a bustlrag rtunour^ like a fi-ay. — 
Mr. Knight has by mistake " I hear." Ru7nor is 
here (though not generally in Shakespeare) only a 
noise ; a fray is a fight, from the French ; bustle is 
apparently connected with biisy^ which is a Saxon 
word. 

267. Sooth^ madam. — Sooth, when used at all, 
may still mean either truth or true. We see that in 
Shakespeare's time it also meant truly. The Saxon 
soth is in like manner used in all these diffei'ent ways. 

268. Come hither, follow ; ivhich way hast thou 
been P — The line, which stands thus in the original 
edition, and makes a perfect verse, is commonly cut 
up into two hemistichs. Buf " Which \vay hast thou 
been " is not a possible commencement of a verse, 
unless we were to lay an emphasis on thou, which 
would be absurd. Our been, it may be noted, is 
here, and commonly elsewhere, bin in the old text, 
as the word is still pronounced. Tyrwhitt would 
substitute Artemidorus for the Soothsayer in this 
scene ; but the change is not necessary. It is to be 
observed that we have both Artemidorus and the 
Soothsayer in the next scene (the First of the Third 
Act). Nevertheless, there is some apparent want 
of artifice in what may be almost described as the 
distribution of one part between two dramatis per- 
sonce; and there may possibly be something wrong. 

270. What is't o'clock ? — In the original text a 
clocke. See 65. 

276. Why, knowest thou any harm's intended 
towards him ? — Any harm that is intended. As 
in 34 and 214. 

277. None that I know, etc. — Hanmer and Stee- 



264 Philological Commentary, [act il 

vens object to the may chance here, as at once un- 
necessary to the sense and injurious to the prosody. 
We should not have much missed the two words, 
certainly ; but they may be borne with. The line is 
bisected in the original edition ; but, if it is to be 
accepted, it is better, perhaps, to consider it as a 
prolonged verse. In this somewhat doubtful instance 
the rhythm will be certainly that of an Alexandrine. 
Let the three words know will be^ and also the three 
fear may chance^ at any rate, be each and all em- 
phatically enunciated. 

277. /'// get me. — Compare this with get thee 
gone in 260, and also y^\\h. get you home in i. 

277. [^ place more void. — For void = empty, as 
here, see Ge7t. i. 2 ; i Kings xxii. 10. So Hall, 
Hen. VIII. : " and yfet was in euery vo^^de place 
spangels of golde." In Wiclif 's Bible, Luke xx. 10, 
we have, " beeten him, and letten him go voyde."] 

278. Ay me! how weak a thing. — This (written 
Aye 77ie) is the reading of all the old copies. That 
of the modern editions, Mr. Collier's one-volume 
included, is '■'•Ah me ! " The readers of Milton will 
remember his " Ay me ! I fondly dream, Had ye 
been there," and, again, " Ay me ! whilst thee the 
shores and sounding seas Wash far away," &c. 
{^Lycidas., 56 and 154). So also in Comus., 511, and 
Samson Agoitistes., 330. Even in Paradise Lost 
we have " Ay me ! they little know How dearly I 
abide that boast so vain" (iv. 86), and "Ay me! 
that fear Comes thundering back with dreadful revo- 
lution" (x. 813), — although in the latter passage a-4 
has been substituted in many of the modern editions. 
Ah me is a form which he nowhere uses. 

278. The heart of woman is I etc. — The broken 
lines here seem to require to be arranged as I have 



H 



sc. IV.] Julius C^sar. 265 

given them. We do not get a complete verse (if 
that were an object) by the incongruous annexation 
of the " O Brutus" to the previous exclamation. 

278. Brutus hath a suit, etc. — This she addresses 
in explanation to the boy, whose presence she had 
for a moment forgotten. 

278. Commend me to 7ny lord. — In this idiomatic 
or formal phrase the word commend has acquired 
a somewhat peculiar signification. The resolution 
would seem to be, Give my commendation to him, 
or Say that I commend myself to him, meaning that 
I commit and recommend myself to his affectionate 
remembrance. So we have in Latin " Me totum 
tuo amori fideique commendo " ( Cicero, Epist. ad 
Att. iii. 20) ; and " Tibi me totum commendo atque 
trado " {Id. Epist. Fam. ii. 6). At the same time, 
in considering the question of the origin and proper 
meaning of the English phrase the custom of what 
was called Co77imendation in the Feudal System is 
not to be overlooked : the vassal was said to cotnmend 
himself to the person whom he selected for his lord. 
Commend is etymologically the same word with 
cofnmand ; and both forms, with their derivatives, 
have been applied, in Latin and the modern tongues 
more exclusively based upon it, as well as in Eng- 
lish, in a considerable variety of ways. 

ACT III. 

Scene I. All the heading that we have to this 
j Act in the original copy, where the whole is thrown 
into one scene, is, '■'Flourish. Eitter Ccesar, Bru- 
tus, Cassius, Caska, Decius, Aletellus, Trebonitcs, 
[ Cynna, Antony, Lepidus, Artemidorus, Publius, 
5 and the Soothsayer." — A Flourish is defined by 



266 Philological Commentary, [act hi. 

Johnson " a kind of musical pi-elude." It is com- 
monly, if not always, of trumpets. The word is of 
continual occurrence in the stage directions of our 
old Plays ; and Shakespeare has, not only in his 
Richard III. iv. 4, 

A flourish, trumpets ! — strike alarum, drums ! 
but in Titus Androtzictis^ iv. 2, 

Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish thus.? 

282. Doth desire you to o'er-read. — Over (or o^er) 
in composition has four meanings: i. Throughout 
(or over all), which is its effect here (answering to 
the per in the equivalent peruse) ; 2. Beyond, or in 
excess, as in overleaps overpay ; 3. Across, as in 
one sense oi overlook ; 4. Down upon, as in another 
sense of the same verb. 

282. At your best leisure. — Literally, at the lei- 
sure that is best for your convenience, that best suits 
you. The phrase, however, had come to be under- 
stood as implying that the leisure was also to be as 
early as could be made convenient. 

282. This his hiinible suit. — Suit is from sue 
(which we also have in composition in ensue.^ issue^, 
purstie) ; and sue is the French suivre (which, 
again, is from the Latin sequor., secuttis). A suit 
of clothes is a set, one -p'l&ce. following or correspond- 
ing to another. Suite is the same word, whether 
used for a retinue, or for any other kind of succession 
(such as a sziite of apartments). 

284. That touches us ? Ourself shall be last served, 
— This is the correction of Mr. Collier's MS. annota- 
tor. [" A specious, but entirely needless change," 
as White well calls it.] The common reading is, 
"What touches us ourself shall be last served." To 
serve^ or attend to, a person is a familiar form of 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 267 

expression ; to speak of a thing as served^ in the 
sense of attended to, would, it is apprehended, be 
unexampled. The " us ourself," however, would 
be unobjectionable. Whatever may be the motive 
or view which has led to the substitution of the 
plural for the singular personal pronoun in certain 
expressions, it is evident that the plurality of the 
pronoun could not conveniently be allowed to carry 
along with it a corresponding transformation of all 
the connected words. Although an English king 
might speak of himself as We^ it would be felt that 
the absurdity was too great if he were to go on to 
say, " We the Kings of England." Hence such 
awkward combinations as " We ourself," or " Us 
ourself;" which, however, are only exemplifications 
of the same construction which we constantly em- 
ploy in common life when in addressing an individ- 
ual we say " You yourself." The same contradiction, 
indeed, is involved in the word Yourself standing 
alone. It may be observed, however, that the verb 
always follows the number of the pronoun which is 
its nominative, so that there is never any violation 
of the ordinary rule of grammatical concord. Upon 
the nature of the word Self^ see Latham, Eng. 
Lan. ^th Ed. § 661. See also the note on 54, Did 
lose his hcstre. 

288. There is no such stage direction in the old 
editions as we now have at the end of this speech. 

291. The stage direction attached to this speech 
is also modern. 

294. Look., how he makes to Ccesar. — We should 
now say, he makes up to. And we also say to make 
ybr, with another meaning. — For the prosody of 
this verse, see note on 246. 

295. Casca. be sudden., etc. — We should now 



268 Philological Commentary, [act in. 

rather say, Be quick. Prevention is liinderance by 
something happening before that which is hindered. 
See 147. 

395. Cassius on Ccesar never shall turn back. — 
The reading of all the old copies is " or Caesar," and 
it is retained by most or all of the modern editors. 
It is interpreted by Ritson as meaning " Either 
Casar or I shall never return alive." But to turn 
back cannot mean to return alive, or to return in any 
way. The inost it could mean would be to make a 
movement towards returning ; which is so far from 
being the same thing with the accomplished return 
which this translation would have it to imply that it 
may almost be said to be the very opposite. Besides, 
even if to turn back could mean here to leave or get 
away from the Capitol alive, although Cassius, by 
plunging his dagger into his own heart, would indeed 
have prevented himself from so escaping, how was 
that act to bring with it any similar risk to Cassar? 
I will slay myself, Cassius is supposed to say, where- 
by either I shall lose my life or Caesar will his. 
The emendation of "or Caesar" into " o;? Cassar" 
was proposed and is strongly supported by Malone, 
although he did not venture to introduce it into his 
text. [White adopts it.J We have probably the 
opposite misprint of on iox or in the speech of Pau- 
lina in the concluding scene of The Winter's Tale^ 
where the old copies give us, — 

Then, all stand still : 
On : those that think it is unlawful business 
I am about, let them depart, — 

although Mr. Knight adheres to the on and the 
point. [White has or.'\ 

296. Cassius^ be constant. — See 262. 

296. Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes. — 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 269 

Although this verse has twelve syllables, it is not for 
that an Alexandrine. Its rhythm is the same as if 
the last w^ord had been merely the dissyllable pur- 
pose^ or even a monosj'llable, such as act or deed. 
It is completed by the strong syllable pur- in the 
tenth place, and the two unaccented syllables that 
follow have no pi'osodical eflbct. Of course, there 
is also an oratorical emphasis on our., although stand- 
ing in one of those places which do not require an 
accented syllable, but which it is a mistake to sup- 
pose incapable of admitting such. 

296. Ccesar doth not change. — In his manner of 
looking, or the expression of his countenance. 

297. The stage direction attached to this speech is 
modern. 

299. He is addressed. — To dress is the same 
word with to direct. Immediately from the French 
J dresser., it is ultimately from the Latin dirigere., and 
''' its literal meaning, therefore, is, to make right or 
straight. Formerly, accordingly, anything was said 
to be dressed or addressed when it was in complete 
order for the purpose to which it was to be applied. 
Thus, in 2 He7iry IV. iv. 4, the King says, " Our 
navy is addressed, our power collected ; " and in A 
Midsummer JVighfs Dreain., v. i, Philostrate, the 
Master of the Revels, makes his official announce- 
ment to Theseus thus : " So please your Grace, 
the prologue is addressed." So He is addressed 
in the present passage means merely He is ready. 
The primary sense of the word is still retained in 
such phrases as To dress the ranks ; and it is not far 
departed from in such as To dress cloth or leather. 
To dress a wound. To dress meat. The notion of 
decoration or embellishment which we commonly 
associate with dressing does not enter fully even into 



270 Philological Commentary, [act hi. 

the expression To dress the hair. In To redress^ 
meaning to set to rights again that which has gone 
wrong, to make that which was crooked once more 
straight, we have the simple etymological or radical 
import of the word completely preserved. To re- 
dress is to re-rectify. 

The following are some examples of the employ- 
ment of the word addressed by writers of the latter 
part of the seventeenth century : " When Middle- 
ton came to the King in Paris, he brought with him 
a little Scotish vicar, who was known to the King, 
one Mr. Knox. . . . He said he was addressed from 
Scotland to the Lords in the Tower, who did not 
then know that Middleton had arrived in safety with 
the King ; " etc. — Clarendon, History^ Book xiii. 
" Thereupon they [the King's friends in England] 
sent Harry Seymour, who, being of his Majesty's 
bedchamber, and having his leave to attend his own 
affairs in England, they well knew would be be- 
lieved by the King, and, being addressed only to the 
Marquis of Ormond and the Chancellor of the Ex- 
chequer, he might have opportunity to speak with 
the King privately and undiscovered ; " etc. — Id. 
Book xiv. " Though the messengers who were sent 
were addressed only to the King himself and to the 
Chancellor of the Exchequer ; " etc. — Ibid. "• Two 
gentlemen of Kent came to Windsor the morning 
after the Prince [of Orange] came thither. They 
were addressed to me. And they told me ; " etc. — 
Burnet, Own Times., i. 799. 

300. Yozi are thejirst that rears yoitr ha7id. — In 
strict grammar, perhaps, it should be either " rears 
his " or " rear your ; " but the business of an editor 
of Shakespeare is not to make for us in all cases 
perfect grammar, but to give us what his author in 



SC. 1.] JUUUS C^SAR. 271 

all probability wrote. A writer's grammatical irreg- 
ularities are as much part of his style, and therefore 
of his mind and of himself, as any other characteristic. 

301. Casca. Are "die all ready? 302. Caes. What 
is now amiss^ etc. — There can, I think, be no doubt 
that Mr. Collier's MS. annotator has here again 
given us the true reading, and a valuable restoration. 
[Dyce, Hudson, and White adopt it.] What Casca 
could possibly mean by exclaiming, " What is now 
amiss. That Caesar and his Senate must redress?" is 
neaidy inconceivable. The question is plainly suit- 
able to Csesar only, to the person presiding ; the pro- 
ceedings could never have been so opened by any 
mere member of the Senate. And the absurdity of 
supposing it to have been spoken by Casca becomes 
still stronger when we have to consider it as a nat- 
ural sequence of the "Are we all ready?" which 
immediately precedes. Even if any one of the con- 
spirators was likely to have made such a display, it 
was hardly Casca. 

303. Most puissant Ccesar. — Puissant^ and the 
substantive form puissance^ are, I believe, always 
dissyllables in Milton ; with Shakespeare they gen- 
erally are so (as here), but not always. Thus in 
King yohit^ iii. i, the King says to the Bastard, — 

Cousin, go draw our puissance together. 

Walker, however, is mistaken in producing the 
line, — 

Either past, or not arrived to pith and puissance — 

(from the Chorus befoi'e the Third Act of King 
Henry the Fifth^ as necessarily to be read with the 
trisyllabic division of the word. It is not even 
♦ probable that it ought to be so read, — barely pos- 
sible. In Speiiser too we have occasionall}' this 



272 Philological Commentary, [^act hi. 

pronunciation ; as in F. ^. v. 2. 7, " For that he 
is so puissant and strong ; " and again in stanza 17, 
" His puissance, ne bear himself upright." 

304. These crouchiiigs. — This is the correction 
(for the couchings of the old printed copies) of Mr. 
Collier's MS. annotator. Surely it does not admit 
of a doubt. [Hudson and White have couchings^ 
and below low-crooked. The former quotes Rich- 
ardson, who gives " to lower, to stoop, to bend 
down," as meanings of to couch; while the latter 
refers to Singer's citations from Huloet : " Cowche, 
like a dogge ; proctifnbo, proster^to" " crooke-backed 
or crowche-backed."] 

304. A7td turji pre-07-dma7ice^ etc. — The reading 
of the old text here is " into the lane of children." 
Malone actually attempts an explanation of " the 
lane of children ; " he says it may mean " the nar- 
row conceits of children, which must change as their 
minds grow more enlarged " ! The prostration of 
the human understanding before what it has got to 
hold as authority can hardly be conceived to go 
beyond this. Johnson conjectured that lane might 
be a misprint for law; and Mr. Collier's MS. an- 
notator, it appears, makes the same emendation. 
[It is adopted by Dyce, Hudson, and White.] The 
new reading may still be thought not to be perfectly 
satisfactory ; but at least it is not utter nonsense, like 
the other. In a passage which has evidently suffered 
some injury, v^e may perhaps be allowed to suspect 
that "jfri-/f decree " should be '•'• fixed decree." The 
word would be spelled fixt., as it is immediately 
afterwards in 309. 

304. Be ?iotfiond^ etc. — The sense in which fond 
is used here (that of foolish) appears to be the origi- 
nal one ; so that when tenderness of aftection was 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 273 

first called fondness it must have been regarded as a 
kind of folly. In like manner what was thought of 
doting upon anything, or any person, maybe inferred 
from the import of the word dotage. In Chaucer a 
foiine is a fool ; and the word fondlingz^in scarcely 
be said to have yet lost that meaning. 

[Compai^e VV^iclif's Bible, i Cor. i. 27 : " But God 
chees the thingis that ben fonnyd of the world to 
confounde wise men." So Udall's JSras?nus : " With 
these fond ceremonies is the tyme consumed awaie 
therewhyle," etc. And Latimer, Sermoits : "It is 
a fond thing : I will not tarry in it."] 

304. Such rebel blood., That will be thawed. — 
See 44. 

304. Low-crotcched curtsies. — This is the cor- 
rection of Mr. Collier's MS. annotator : the Folios 
have " Low-crooked-curtsies " (with hyphens con- 
necting all the three words). We say to crouch 
low., but not to crook low. Curtsies., which we 
have here, is the same word which appears in the 
second line of the present speech as courtesies. It 
is akin to court and courteous., the immediate root 
being the French cour ; which, again, appears to 
be the Latin curia, — or rather curiata (scil. co- 
mitia?)., as Is indicated by our English court, and 
the old form of the French word, which was the 
same, and also by the Italian corte and the Spanish 
corte and cortes. [Wedgwood derives court from 
the Latin cohors, chars, an enclosed place. Scheler, 
Diet. d'Etymol. Franc, and the revised Webster 
also give this etymology.] Mr. Collier prints cour- 
tesies. It is curtsies in the Second Folio, as well 
as in the First. 

304. Know, Ccesar doth not wrong, etc. — This 
is the reading of all the old printed copies, and Mr. 
18 



274 Philological Commentary, [act hi. 

Collier expressly states that it is left untouched by 
his MS. corrector. We must take it as meaning, 
" Casar never does what is wrong or unjust ; nor 
will he be appeased (when he has determined to 
punish) without sufficient reason being shown." At 
the same time, it must be confessed both that these 
two propositions, or affirmations, do not hang very 
well together, and also that such meaning as they 
may have is not very clearly or effectively expressed 
by the words. " Nor without cause will he be sat- 
isfied" has an especially suspicious look. That 
" without cause " should mean without sufficient 
reason being shown why he should be satisfied or 
induced to relent, is only an interpretation to which 
we are driven for want of a better. Now, all this 
being so, it is remarkable that there is good evidence 
that the passage did not originally stand as we now 
have it. Ben Jonson, in his Discoveries^ speaking 
of Shakespeare, says, " Many times he fell into those 
things could not escape laughter ; as when he said 
in the person of Caesar, one speaking to him, ' Caesar, 
thou dost me wrong,' he replied, ' Caesar did never 
wrong but with just cause.' " And he ridicules the 
expression again in his Staple of Nexus: "Cry you 
mercy ; you never did wrong but with just cause." 
We must believe that the words stood originally as 
Jonson has given them ; and he had evidently heard 
of no alteration of them. Whoever may have at- 
tempted to mend them might perhaps have as well 
let them alone. [Hudson and White agree with 
Collier in the opinion that Jonson was speaking 
only from memory, which, as he himself says, was 
" shaken with age now, and sloth," and so misquoted 
the Poet.] After all, Csesar's declaring that he 
never did wrong but with just cause would differ 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 275 

little from what Bassanio says in The Merchant of 

Venice^ iv. i : — 

I beseech jou, 
Wrest once the law to your authority : 
To do a great right do a little wrong. 

Shakespeare, however, may have retouched the pas- 
sage himself on being told of Jonson's ridicule of it, 
though perhaps somewhat hastily and with less 
painstaking than Euripides when he mended or cut 
out, as he is said to have done in several instances, 
what had incurred the derisive criticism of Aris- 
tophanes. 

305. For the repealing^ etc. — To repeal (from 
the French rappeler) is literally to recall, though no 
longer used in that sense, — in which, however, it 
repeatedly occurs in Shakespeare. Thus in Corio- 
lanus, iv. i, after the banishment of Marcius, his 
friend Cominius says to him, — 

If the time thrust forth 
A cause for thy repeal, we shall not send, etc. 

For the probable pronunciation of banished in this 
and in the preceding speech, see the note on 246. 

306. Desiring thee. — We should now say in this 
sense "■ desiring of thee." To desire., from the Latin 
desiderium (through the French desir) is the same 
as to desiderate ; but, like other similar terms, it has 
in different constructions, or has had in different 
stages of the language, various meanings according 
to the measure or degree of intensity in which that 
which it expresses is conceived to be presented. It 
may be found in every sense, from such wishing or 
longing as is the gentlest and quietest of all things 
(the soft desire of the common herd of our amatory 
verse-mongers) to that kind which gives utterance to 
itself in the most imperative style of command. 



276 Philological Commentary, [act hi. 

306. An immediate freedom of repeal. — A free, 
unconditional recall. This application of the term 
freedom is a little peculiar. It is apparently imi- 
tated from tlie expressionyV^ec/o?;/ of a city. As that 
is otherwise called the municipal franchise., so this 
is called enfranchisement in the next speech but one. 

308. As loxv as to thy foot. — The Second Folio 
has " As love." 

309. / could be well moved. — I could fitly or 
properly be moved. 

309. If I could fray to move^ prayers would move 
me. — The meaning seems to be, " If I could employ 
prayers (as you can do) to move (others), then I 
should be moved by prayers (as you might be)." 

309. But I atn constant as the northern star. — 
See 262. 

309. Resting quality. — Qiiality or property of 
remaining at rest or immovable. 

309. Bzit there^s but one in all doth hold his 
place. — That is, its place, as we should now say. 
See 54. 

309. Appreheftsive. — Possessed of the power of 
apprehension, or intelligence. The word is now 
confined to another meaning. 

309. That unassailable^ etc. — Holds on his rank 
probably means continues to hold his place ; and un- 
shaked of motion., perhaps, unshaken by any motion, 
or solicitation, that may be addressed to him. Or, 
possibly, it may be, Holds on his course unshaken in 
his motion, or with perfectly steady movement. 

311. Wilt thou lift up Olympus? — Wilt thou 
attempt an impossibility? Think you, with your 
clamor, to upset what is immovable as the everlast- 
ing seat of the Gods? 

313. Doth not Brutus bootless kneel 9 — Has not 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 277 

Brutus been refused, and shall any other be listened 
to? It is surprising that Dr. Johnson shovild have 
missed seeing this, and proposed to read " Do not, 
Brutus, bootless kneel." That, however (which 
Johnson does not appear to have known), is also the 
reading of the Second Folio, — except, indeed, that 
the point of interrogation is, notwithstanding, still 
preserved. 

314. — The onl}'^ stage direction after this speech 
in the original edition is, " They stab CcBsar." 

315' — J^t tu^ Brzite. — There is no ancient Latin 
authority, I believe, for this famous exclamation, 
although in Suetonius, i. 83, Ctesar is made to ad- 
dress Brutus Kotf tfO, Ts'xvov; (And thou too, my son?). 
It may have occurred as it stands here in the Latin 
play on the same subject which is recorded to have 
been acted at Oxford in 1582 ; and it is found in The 
True Tragedy of Richard Duke of Tork, first 
printed in 1595, on which the Third Part of Kiitg 
Henry the Sixth is founded, as also in a poem by S. 
Nicholson, entitled Acolastus his Afterwit^ printed 
in 1600, in both of which neaidy contemporary pro- 
ductions we have the same line — "^^ tu^ Brute? 
Wilt thou stab Caesar too?" It may just be noticed, 
as the historical fact, that the meeting of the Senate 
at which Caesar was assassinated was held, not, as 
is hei'e assumed, in the Capitol, but in the Curia in 
which the statue of Pompey stood, being, as Plu- 
tarch tells us, one of the edifices which Pompey had 
built, and had given, along with his famous Theatre, 
to the public. It adjoined the Theatre, which is 
spoken of (with the Portico surrounding it) in 130, 
138, and 140. The mistake which we have here is 
found also in Hamlet^ where (iii. 2) Hamlet ques- 
tions Polonius about his histrionic performances 



278 Philological Commentary, [act hi. 

when at the University : " I did enact Julius Csesar," 
says Polonius ; " I was killed i' the Capitol ; Brutus 
killed me ;" to which the Prince replies, " It was a 
brute part of him to kill so capital a calf there." So 
also, in Atttony and Cleopatra^ ii. 6 : — 

What 
Made the all-honoured, honest, Roman Brutus, 
With the armed rest, courtiers of beauteous freedom, 
To drench the Capitol ? 

Even Beaumont and Fletcher, in their Tragedy en- 
titled The False Ofie, in defending themselves from 
the imputation of having taken up the same subject 
which had been already brought on the stage in the 
present Play, say, — 

Sure to tell 
Of Caesar's amorous heats, and how he fell 
I' the Capitol, can never be the same 
To the judicious. 

In the old copies the only stage direction at the end 

of this speech is the word '■'■Dies." 

318. Ambition^ s debt is paid. — Its debt to the 

country and to justice. 

334. \_Publius.t good cheer. — Cheer., Fr. chere^ 

originally meant the countenance, aspect- 
She cast on me no goodly chere. — Gower, Conf. Am. 

All fancj-sick she is, and pale oi cheer. 

Mid. N. 's Dr. iii. 2. 
He ended, and his words their drooping cheer 
Enlightened. — Milton, P. L. vi. 496. 

Hence " to be of good cheer" is, literally, to wear a 
pleasant face, to look cheerful.] 

324. Nor to no Roman else. — Where, as here, 
the sense cannot be mistaken, the reduplication of 
the negative is a very natural way of strengthening 
the expression. It is common in the Saxon. 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 279 

326. And let no ?nan abide this deed. — Let no 
man be held responsible for, or be required to stand 
any consequences that may follow upon any penalty 
that may have to be paid on account of, this deed. 
Another form of the verb to abide is to aby ; as in 
A Midsummer NigJifs Dream., iii. 2 : — 

If thou dost intend 
Never so little shew of love to her, 
Thou shalt aby it ; — 

and in the same scene, a little before, " Lest to thy 
peril thou aby it dear ; " and, a little after, " Thou 
shalt ^by this dear." So in the Old Version of the 
Psalms, iii. 26, " Thou shalt dear aby this blow." 
It may be questioned whether abide in this sense has 
any connection with the common word. To aby 
has been supposed by some to be the same with 
buy. — The original stage direction is £nter Tre- 
bonius. 

327. Where's Antony. — In the original text, 
" Where is Antony." 

328. As it were' doomsday . — The full expression 
would be "as z/* it were doomsday." — The doom 
of doomsday is the Saxon dom., judgment, a deriva- 
tive of dhfzan (whence our deetri^., to judge. The 
Judges in the Isle of Man and in Jersey are called 
Deemsters. In Scotland formerly the Dempster of 
Court \^2i% the legal name for the common hangman ; 
but the word also designated a species of judge. 
The Dempsters of Caraldstone in Forfarshire were 
so called as being hereditary judges to the great 
Abbey of Aberbrothock. Lord Hailes, under the 
year 1370, refers to an entry in the Chartulary 
recording that one of them had become bound to 
the Abbot and Abbey that he and his heii's should 
furnish a person to administer justice in their courts 



28o Philoi^ogical Commentary, [act hi. 

at an annual salary of twenty shillings sterling 
{^facient ipsis deserviri de officio j'udicis^ etc.). — 
Annals^ ii. 336 [edit, of 1S19]. 

330. Why, he that cuts off, etc. — The modern 
editors, generally, give this speech to Casszus ; but 
it is assigned to Casca in all the old copies. [Hud- 
son and White give it to Casca. The former remarks 
that it is strictly in keeping with what Casca says in 
127.] 

332. Stoop, the7i, and ivash. — So in Coriolanus, 
i. 10, w^e have — '-^Wash my fierce hand in his 
heart." In both passages xvash, which is a Saxon 
vs^ord (preserved also in the German waschcn), is 
used in what is probably its primitive sense of im- 
mersing in or covering with liquid. Thus we say 
to wash with gold or silver. So in Antony and 
Cleop^ra, v. i, Octavius, on being told of the death 
of Antony, exclaims, "It is a tidings To wash the 
^yes of kings." 

332. I7i states u7iborn. — The First Folio, and 
that only, has " In state unborn," — palpably a 
typographical error, and as such now given up by 
everybody, but a reading which Malone, in his 
abject subservience to the earliest text, actually re- 
tained, or restored, interpreting it as meaning " in 
theatric pomp as yet undisplayed." 

333. That now ott Pojupey's basis lies along: — 
At the base of Fompey's statue, as in 425. — In the 
First Folio it is " lye along ; " in the Second, " lyes." 
["Lie along" for lie at full length, be prostrate, 
occurs in yiidges vii. 13. For another instance 
in Shakespeare see Coriol. v. 6 : " When he lies 
along," etc.] 

334. The men that gave their country liberty. — 
This is the reading of all the old copies, which Mr. 



sc. I.] Juuus Cesar. 281 

Knight has restored, after their had been turned into 
our by the last century editors (Malone included), 
not only unnecessarily and unwarrantably, but also 
without notice. [Collier, Dyce, Hudson, and White 
have thcir.~\ 

336. With the most boldest. — In the old version 
of the Psalms we are familiar with the form the fuost 
Highest; and even in the authorized translation of 
the Bible we have, in Acts xxvi. 5, " the most strait- 
est sect of our religion." Nor is there anything 
intrinsically absurd in such a mode of expression. 
If we are not satisfied to consider it as merely 
an intensified superlative, we may say that the 
most boldest should mean those who are boldest 
among the boldest. So again in 425, " This was 
the most unliindest cut of all." In most cases, how- 
ever, the double superlative must be regarded as 
intended merely to express the extreme degree more 
emphatically. Double comparatives are very com- 
mon in Shakespeare. 

338. Say^ I love Brutus. — Mr. Knight has, ap- 
parently by a typographical error, " I lov'd." 

338. May safely come to him^ and be resolved. — 
That is, have his perplexity or uncertainty removed. 
We might still say, have his doubts resolved. But 
we have lost the more terse form of expression, by 
which the doubt was formerly identified with the 
doubter. So again, in 425, Ctesar's blood is described 
by Antony as 

rushing out of doors, to be resolved 

If Brutus so-unkindly knocked or no; 

and in 505 Brutus, referring to Cassius, asks of Lu- 
cilius, " How he received you, let me be resolved." 
[See heading of chaps, x. and xii. of Mark's Gospel.] 
Mr. Collier's MS. annotator appends the stage direc- 



282 Philological Commentary, [act hi. 

tion '■'■ Kneeling" to the first line of this speech, and 
^'•Rismg" to the last. 

338. [ Thoi'ough the hazards. — Thorough (or 
thorow^i as it is sometimes spelt) and through are 
the same word ; as also are thoroughly and through- 
ly. Shakespeare used both forms, as the following 
examples will show : — 

Over hill, over dale, 

Thorough bush, thorough briar, 
Over park, over pale. 

Thorough flood, thorough fire. 

Mid. N.'s Dream, ii. i. 

How he glisters 
Thorough my rust ! — Winter's Tale, iii. 2. 

See also 709. Examples of through need not be 
given. See 425, 458, etc. 

I am informed throughly of the case. 

Mer. of Ven., iv. I. 
You scarce can right me throughly, etc. 

Wif tier's Tale, ii. I. 
I'll be revenged 
Most throughly for my father. — Hamlet, iv. 5. 

I am throughly weary. — Cymbeline, iii. 6. 

Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded. 

Coriolanus, i. i. 

Compare-falso Bacon, Essay ^th — "that saileth, in 
the fraile tarke of the flesh, thorow the waves of the 
world." Also, Essay ^'jth — " to looke backe upon 
anger, when the fitt is throughly over." 

In Numbers xxviii. 29, we have thorowout for 
throughout., in the edition of 1611. And in the 
Mer. of Ve7t. ii. 7, we have yet another of these 
old forms : — 

The Hyrcanian deserts and the vasty wilds 
Of wide Arabia are as throughfares now 
For princes to come view fair Portia.] 



sc. I.] Julius C^:sar. 283 

339. Tell him^ so please him come unto this 
place. — For the meaning of so here, see the note on 
" So with love I might entreat you," in 57- Tliere 
is an elh'psis of the usual nominative (?V) before the 
impersonal verb {^please') ; and the infinitive co7ne 
also wants the customaiy prefix to. [See on i .] " So 
please him come " is equivalent to If it please (or 
may please) him to come. 

341. / know that we shall have him well to 
friend. — So in Cymbeline^ i. 5? lachimo says, 
" Had I admittance and opportunity to friend." So 
Macbeth (iii. 3), "What I can redress. As I shall 
find the time to friend, I will." Even in Clarendon 
we have, " For the King had no port to friend by 
which he could bring ammunition to Oxford," etc. — 
Hist., Book vii. To friend is equivalent to for 
friend. So we say To take to wife. The German 
form of to (zzi) is used in a somewhat similar man- 
ner : Das wird niich zu etirem Freunde inachen 
(That will make me your friend). In the Winter's 
Tale., V. I, we have "All greetings that a King at 
friend Can send his brother." [Compare Matthew 
iii. 9, Luke iii. 8 : " We have Abraham to our 
father," etc.] 

342. Falls shrewdly to the purpose. — The pur- 
pose is the intention ; to the purpose is according to 
the intention, as away from the purpose, or beside 
the purpose, is without any such coincidence or con- 
formity ; and to fall shrewdly to the purpose may 
be explained as being to fall with mischievous sharp- 
ness and felicity of aim upon that which it is sought 
to hit. See 186. 

343. The original heading is '•'■Enter Antony." 

344. O mighty Ccesarl dost thou lie so low? — 
Mr. Collier states in his Notes and Emendations^ 



284 Philological Commentary, [act hi. 

p. 400, that a stage direction of his MS. annotator 
requires Antony, on his entrance with this line, to 
kneel over the body, and to rise when he comes to 
" I know not, gentlemen, what you intend," etc. 

344. W/io else is rank. — Is of too luxuriant 
growth, too fast-spreading power in the common- 
wealth. 

344. Nor no instrument. — Here the double neg- 
ative, while it occasions no ambiguity, is palpably 
much more forcible than either and no or nor any 
would have been. 

344. Of half that worth as. — See 44. 

344. / do beseech ye., if you bear 7ne hard. — See 
note on Bear me hard in 105. — The present line 
affords a remarkable illustration of how completely 
the old declension of the personal pronoun of the 
second person has become obliterated in our modern 
English. Milton, too, almost always has ye in the 
accusative. Thus {Par. Lost., x. 463) — "I call 
ye, and declare ye now, returned. Successful beyond 
hope, to lead ye forth," etc. In the original form of 
the language _)/e (ge) is always nominative, and you 
(edw) accusative ; being the very reverse of what 
we have here. 

344. Live a thozisand years. — Suppose I live ; 
If I live ; Should I live. But, although the sup- 
pression of the conditional conjunction is common 
and legitimate enough, that of the pronoun, or nom- 
inative to the verb, is hardly so defensible. The 
feeling probably was that the / in the next line 
might serve for both verbs. 

344. So apt to die. — Apt is properly fit, or suited, 
generally, as here. So formerly they said to apt in 
the sense both of to adapt and of to agree. I appre- 
hend, however, that such an expression as apt to die 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 285 

(for ready or prepared to die) would have been felt 
in any stage of the language to involve an unusual 
extension of the meaning of the word, sounding about 
as strange as aptzis ad tnoriendtim would do in Latin. 
We now, at all events, commonly understand the 
kind of suitableness or readiness implied in apt as 
being only that "which consists in inclination, or 
addictedness, or mere liability. Indeed, we usually 
say disposed or inclined in cases in which apt was 
the customai'y word in the English of the last cen- 
tury ; as in Smollett's Count Fathom^ vol. ii. ch. 27, 
" I am apt to believe it is the voice of heaven." By 
the substantive aptitude^ again, we mostly under- 
stand an active fitness. The word apte was wont to 
be not much used in French ; some of the diction- 
aries do not notice it ; Richelet characterizes it as 
obsolete ; adding, on the authority of Father Bou- 
hours, that the noun aptitude is occasionally em- 
ployed, although not considered to belong to the 
Court language. Like many other old-fashioned 
words, however, this has been revived by recent 
writers. Such expressions as " On est apte ^ juger," 
meaning " One has no difficulty in concluding," are 
common in modern books. [Compare 2 Kings 
xxiv. 16 ; I Tiin. iii. 2 ; 2 Ti7n. ii. 24. See also 
Graham, English Synonymes^ s. v.J 

344. As here^ by Ccesar and by you^ cut off. — 
We may resolve the ellipsis by saying " as to be," or 
" as being cut off." And " by Caesar " is, of course, 
beside Csesar : '-'' by you," through your act or in- 
strumentality. A play of words, as it is called, was 
by no means held in Shakespeare's day to be appro- 
priate only to sportive writing, — any more than was 
any other species of verbal artifice or ornament, such, 
for instance, as alliteration, or rhyme, or verse itself. 



I 



286 Philological Commentary, [act in. 

Whatever may be the etymology of by^ its primary ■ 
meaning seems to be alongside of (the same, ap- i| 
parently, with that of the Greek ffapa). It is only 
by inference that instrumentality is expressed either 
by it or by -with (the radical notion involved in 
which appears to be that of joining or uniting). 
See 619. 

344. The choice and master spirits of this age. — 
Choice here may be understood either in the sub- 
stantive sense as the elite^ or, better perhaps, as an 
adjective in concord with spirits. 

345. O Antony I beg ?tot your death of us. — 
That is. If you prefer death, or if you are resolved 
upon death, let it not be of us that you ask it. The 
sequel of the speech seems decisive in regard to the 
us being the emphatic word. 

345. And this the bleeding business. — Only a 
more vivid expression for the bloody business, the 
sanguinary act. 

345. Our hearts you see not., they are pitiful. — 
Probably the primary sense of the Latin pitis and 
pietas may have been nothing more than emotion, or 
affection, generally. But the words had come to be 
confined to the expression of reverential affection 
towards a superior, such as the gods or a parent. 
From pietas the Italian language has received pietd, 
(anciently pietade')^ which has the senses both of 
reverence and of compassion. The French have 
moulded the word into two. forms, which (according 
to what frequently takes' place in language) have 
been respectively appropriated to the two senses ; 
and from their piete and pitie we have borrowed, 
and applied in the same manner, our piety and pity. 
To the former, moreover, we have assigned the 
adjective pious; to the latter, piteous. But pity^ 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 287 

which meant at one time reverence, and afterwards 
compassion, has come in some of its uses to suffer 
still further degradation. "By pitiful (or full of pity) 
Shakespeare, as we see here, means full of com- 
passion ; but the modern sense of pitiful is con- 
temptible or despicable. " Pity," it has been said, 
or sung, ''melts the soul to love;" but this .would 
seem to show that it is also near akin to a very differ- 
ent passion. And, instead of turning to love, it 
would seem more likely that it should sometimes 
pass on from contempt to aversion and hatred. In 
many cases, too, when we say that we pity an indi- 
vidual, we mean that we despise or loathe him. 

345. As fire drives out fire ^ so pity pity. — In 
this line the first fire is a dissyllable (like hour in 
255), the second a monosyllable. The illustration 
we have here is a favorite one with Shakespeare. 
" Tut, man," says Benvolio to his friend Romeo 
{Romeo and Juliet^ i. 2), — 

one fire burns out another's burning, 

One pain is lessened by another's anguish. 

One fire burns out one fire; one nail, one nail, 
exclaims Tullus Aufidius, in Coriolantis (iv. 7). 
But we have the thought most fully expressed in 
the soliloquy of Proteus in the Fourth Scene of the 
Second Act of The Two Ge7itlemen of Verona : — 

Even as one heat another heat expels, 

Or as one nail by strength drives out another, 

So the remembrance of my former love 

Is by a newer object quite forgotten. 

This is probably also the thought which we have in 
the heroic dastard's exhortation to his uncle, in 
King jfohn, v. i : — 

Be stirring as the time; be fire with fire; 

Threaten the threatener; etc 



288 Philological Commentary, [act hi. 

345. For your part. — We should not now use 
this phrase in the sense which it has here (in so far 
as regards you). 

345. Our arms^ in strength of welcome. — The 
reading in all the old printed copies is, " in strength 
of -malice." Steevens interprets this, " strong in the 
deed o^ malice they have just performed," and Ma- 
lone accepts the explanation as a very happy one. 
But who can believe that Brutus would ever have 
characterized the lofty patriotic passion by which he 
and his associates had been impelled and nerved to 
their great deed as strength of malice ? It is simply 
impossible. The earlier editors, accordingly, seeing 
that the passage as it stood was nonsense, attempted 
to correct it conjecturally in various ways. Pope 
boldly printed " exempt from malice." Capel, more 
ingeniously, pi'oposed " no strength of malice," con- 
necting the words, not with those that follow, but 
with those that precede. [So Hudson.] But the 
mention of malice at all is manifestly in the highest 
degree unnatural. Nevertheless the word has stood 
in every edition down to that in one volume produced 
by Mr. Collier in 1853 ; and there, for the first time, 
instead of " strength of malice" we have " strength 
of welcome." This turns the nonsense into excellent 
sense ; and the two words are by no means so unlike 
as that, in a cramp hand or an injured or somewhat 
faded page, the one might not easily have been mis- 
taken by the first printer or editor for the other. 
The " welcome " would probably be written welcbe. 
Presuming the correction to have been made on doc- 
umentary authority, it is one of the most valuable 
for which we are indebted to the old annotator. 
Even as a mere conjecture, it would be well entitled 
to notice and consideration. 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 289 

[White says, " The difficulty found in this passage, 
which even Mr. Dyce suspects to be corrupt, seems 
to result from a forgetfulness of the preceding context. 

Though now we must appear bloody and cruel. 
As by our hands, and this our present act, 
You see we do ; jet jou see but our hands, 
And this the bleeding business thej have done. 
Oiir hearts jou see not ; they are pitiful ; 
And pity to the general wrong of Rome, etc. 

So {^Brutus continues) our arms, even in the in- 
tensity of their hatred to Ccesar's tyranny, and our 
hearts in their brotherly love to all Romans, do 
receive you in."J 

345. Of brothers^ temper. — Brothers, that is, to 
one another (not to you, Antony). 

347. Beside themselves. — Other forms of the 
same figure are Otct of themselves., Out of their 
senses. And in the same notion we say of a per- 
son whose mind is deranged that he is not himself. 

347. And then we will deliver yoic the cazise. — 
The history of the word deliver (properly to set 
free, to let go forth, and hence, as applied to what 
is expressed in words, to declare, to pronounce) 
presents some points worthy of notice. In Latin 
(besides liber., bark, or a book, and its derivative 
delibrare., to peel oft', with which we have at present 
no concern), there are the adjective liber, free (to 
which llberi, children, probably belongs), and the 
substantive libra, signifying both a balance and the 
weight which we call a pound or twelve ounces. 
Whether liber and libra be connected may be 
doubted. The Greek form of libra, XiVpa, and the 
probable identity of liber with IXsj^spoff are against 
the supposition that they are. At the same time, 
that which is free, whether understood as meaning 
19 



I 



290 Philological Commentary, [act hi, 

that which is free to move in any direction, or that 
which hangs even and without being incHned morei 
to one side than another, would be a natural enough! 
description of a balance. And libra (a balance), it 
may be added, had anciently also the form oi libera. 
At any rate, from liber .^ free, we have the verb libe- 
rare. to make free ; and from libra., a balance, or 
weight, librare., to weigh. 

So far all is regular and consistent. But then, 
when we come to the compound verb deliberare, 
we find that it takes its signification (and must there- 
fore have taken its origin), not from iiberare and 
liber., but from librare and libra; it means, not to 
free, but to weigh. And, such being the state of 
things in the Latin language, the French has from 
deliberare formed deliberer., having the same sig- 
nification (to weigh) ; but it has also from liber 
formed another verb delivrer., with the sense of to 
free. From the French deliberer and delivrer we 
have, in like manner, in English, and with the same 
significations, deliberate and deliver. Thus the 
deviation begun in the Latin deliberare has been' 
carried out and genei'alized, till the derivatives from 
liber have assumed the form that would have been 
more proper for those from libra., as the latter had 
previously usurped that belonging to the former. 

[There is also the Old English deliver •=. active, 
nimble. 

Having chosen his soldiers, of nimble, leane, and deliver 
men. — Hoh'ns/ied, 1577. 

Brave archers and deliver men, since nor before so good. 
— War?ter, Albion^s Eng., 15S6. 

This comes directly from the French delivre., which 
is used in the same sense. It gets its meaning 
" probably from the notion of free, unencumbered 



sc. I.] , Julius Cjssar. 291 

action" ( Wedgwood). For other examples of the 
word, see Chaucer, C. T. 84, and 15422 {deltverly), 
and T". of Melib. {delivernesse) ; Gower, ConJ". Am. 
177, b., etc. The word clever has been supposed bv 
some to be a corruption of this deliver., but it is 
more probably from the Saxon gleatv., gleawferdh^ 
sagacious ( Webster., 1865). For another etymology 
see Wedgwood, s. v.] 

347. When I struck him. — In the original printed 
text it is " strooke him." 

348. Let each man render me his bloody hand. — 
Give me back in return for mine. Here, according 
to the stage direction of Mr. Collier's MS. annotator, 
Antony " takes one after another of the conspirators 
by the hand, and turns to the body, and bends over 
it, while he says, ' That I did love thee, Caesar, O ! 
'tis true,' " etc. 

348. Will I shake with you. — It is not to be sup- 
posed that there was anything undignified in this 
phraseology in Shakespeare's age. 

348. Though last., not least. — So in King Lear., 
i. I, "Although the last, not least in our dear love ; " 
as is noted by Malone, who adds that " the same 
expression occurs more than once in Plays exhibited 
before the time of Shakespeare." We have it also 
in J;he passage of Spenser's Colin Cloufs Come 
Home Agaijz, in which Shakespeare has been sup- 
posed to be referred to : — 

And there, though last, not least, is ^tion; 
A gentler shepherd may no where be found; 
Whose muse, full of high thought's invention, 
Doth like himself heroically sound. 

This poem was published in 1595. 

348. Tbu mitst conceit me. — See 142. 

348. Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy 



292 Philological Commentary, [act m 

death? — Of this use of dear we have several other 
instances in Shakespeare. One of the most remark- 
able is in Hamlet^ i. 2, where Hamlet exclaims, — 

Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven 
Ere I had seen that day! 

Horne Tooke {Div. of Purley, 612, etc.) makes 
plausible case in favor of dear being derived fro 
the ancient verb deriafz^ to hurt, to annoy, and of 
its proper meaning being, therefore, injurious o: 
hateful. His notion seems to be that from thi 
derian we have dearth^ meaning properly that sort 
of injury which is done by the w^eather, and that, a 
usual consequence of dearth being to make the prod- 
uce of the earth high-priced, the adjective dear has 
thence taken its common meaning of precious. This 
is not all distinctly asserted ; but what of it may not 
be explicitly set forth is supposed and implied. It 
is, however, against an explanation which has been 
generally accepted, that there is no appearance ofii 
connection between derian and the contemporarjp' 
word answering to dear in the sense of high-priced, 
precious, beloved, which is deore^ diire^ or dyre, 
and is evidently from the same root, not with derian, 
but with deorafz, or dyran^ to hold dear, to love. 
There is no doubt about the existence of an old 
English verb dere^ meaning to hurt, the unquestion- 
able representative of the original derian : thus in 
Chaucer (C. T". 1824) Theseus says to Palamon and 
Arcite, in the Knight's Tale, — 

And ye shul bothe anon unto me swere 
That never mo ye shul my contree dere, 
Ne maken werre upon me night ne day, 
But ben my frendes in alle that ye may. 

But perhaps we may get most easily and naturally 
at the sense which dear sometimes assumes by sup- 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 293 

posing that the notion properly involved in it of 
love, having first become generalized into that of a 
strong affection of any kind, had thence passed on 
into that of such an emotion the very reverse of love. 
We seem to have it in the intermediate sense in such 
instances as the following : — 

Some dear cause 
Will in concealment wrap me up a while. — Lear, iv. 3. 

A precious ring; a ring that I must use 

In dear employment. — Romeo and Juliet., v. 3. 

And even when Hamlet speaks of his " dearest foe," 
or when Celia remarks to Rosalind, in As Tou Like 
It^ i. 3, " My father hated his father deai'ly" the 
word need not be understood as implying more than 
strong or passionate emotion. 

348. Here zuast tJiou bayed. — So afterwards, in 
497, " We are at the stake. And bayed about with 
many enemies." It is not clear, however, in what 
sense the verb to be bayed is used in these passages. 
Does it mean to be embayed, or enclosed ? or to be 
barked at? or to be made to stand, as it is phrased, 
at bay? The bays in these expressions appear to 
be all diflerent words. [See Webster, and Marsh's 
Wedgwood.] In The Taming of the Shrew., v. 2, 
we have the unusual form at a bay — " 'Tis thought 
your deer does hold you at a bay." 

348. Signed in thy spoil., and crimsoned i7i thy 
death. — Instead oi death the First Folio has Lethee^ 
the others Lethe; and the passage is explained as 
meaning marked and distinguished by being arrayed 
in thy spoils (the power in the commonwealth which 
was thine), and made crimson by being as it were 
bathed in thy shed blood. But Steevens's note is 
entirely unsatisfactory : " Lethe" he says, " is used 
by many of the old translators of novels for death ; " 



294 Philological Commentary, [act hi. 

and then be gives as an example the following sen- 
tence from the Second Part of Heywood's Iron Age^ 
printed in 1632 : — 

The proudest nation that great Asia nursed 
Is now extinct in lethe. 

Here lethe may plainly be taken in its proper and 
usual sense of forgetfulness, oblivion. No other 
example is produced either by the commentators or 
by Nares. Shakespeare, too, repeatedly uses lethe, 
and nowhere, unless it be in this passage, in any 
other than its proper sense. If, however, lethe and 
lethum (or letuni)^ — which may, or may not, be 
connected, — were really sometimes confounded by 
the popular writers of the early part of the seven- 
teenth century, they are kept in countenance by the 
commentators of the eighteenth. Steevens goes on 
to notice, as aftbrding another proof that lethe some- 
times signified death, the following line from Cupid's 
Whirligigs printed in 1616 : — 

For vengeance' wings bring on thy lethal day ; -~ 

and he adds " Dr. Farmer observes, that we meet 
with lethal for deadly in the Information for Mungo 
Campbell." It is not easy to understand this. Who 
ever doubted that deadly was the proper meaning 
of lethalis (from lethunt) ? But what has that to 
do with the signification of lethe P I do not know 
what it is that may have led Nares to imagine that, 
when lethe meant death, it was pronounced as a 
monosyllable. Seeing, however, that the notion of 
its ever having that signification appears to be a 
mere delusion, I have followed Mr. Collier in sup- 
posing it to be here a misprint for deaths which was 
the obvious conjecture of several of the editors of 
the last century, and is sanctioned b}' the authority 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 295 

of his MS. annotator. [Colliei" in his Second Edi- 
tion restores Lcthe^ which is the reading given by- 
Hudson, Staunton, and. White. The last says, 
" I have always understood this to mean, crimsoned 
in the stream which bears thee to oblivion. . . . No 
instance has been produced of the use of lethe in 
any other sense than that of oblivion, actual or 
figurative."] 

348. Strucke7i by ma?iy princes. — It is stroken 
in the original edition. — In the preceding line, 
also, " the heart of thee " is there misprinted " the 
hart of thee." But the two words are repeatedly 
thus confounded in the spelling in that edition. — 
Mr. Collier strangely prefers making this exclama- 
tion, " How like a deer," etc., an interrogatory — as 
if Antony asked the dead body in how far, or to what 
precise degree, it resembled a deer, lying as it did 
stretched out before him. 

350. The enemies of Ccesar shall say this. — 
Here again, as in " This shall mark Our purpose 
necessary" of 1S7, we have a use o^ shall^ which 
now only remains with us, if at all, as an imitation 
of the archaic. See 181. A singular consequence 
has arisen from the change that has taken place. 
By " shall say this " in the present passage Shake- 
speare meant no more than would now be expressed 
by " will say this ; " yet to us the shall elevates the 
expression beyond its original import, giving it some- 
thing, if not quite of a prophetic, yet of an impas- 
sioned, rapt, and as it were vision-seeing character. 

351. But what compact. — Co7npact has always, 
I believe, the accent upon the final syllable in Shake- 
speare, whether used as a substantive, as a verb, or 
as a participle. 

351. Will you be pricked in number of our 



296 Philological Commentary, [act iiiJ 

friends P — To prick is to note or mark off. The 
Sheriffs [in England] are still so nominated by a 
puncture or mark being made at the selected names 
in the list of qualified persons, and this is the vox 
signata^ or established word, for the operation. 

352. Swayed from the point. — Borne away, as 
by a wave, from the point which I had in view and 
for which I was making. 

352. Friends am I ivith yott all. — " This gram- 
matical impropriety," Henley very well remarks, 
" is still so prevalent, as that the omission of the 
anomalous s would give some uncouthness to the 
sound of an otherwise familiar expression." We 
could not, indeed, say '•'•Friend am I with you all ; " 
we should have to turn the expression in some other 
way. In Troihis and Cressida, iv. 4, however, we 
have " And I'll grow friend with danger." Nor 
does the pluralism oi friends depend upon that of 
you all: " I am friends with you " is equally the 
phrase in addressing a single person. / with you 
am is felt to be equivalent to I aiid you are. 

353. Ozir reasons are so full of good regard. — 
So full of what is ei:ititled to favorable regard. Com- 
pare " many of the best respect " in 48. 

353. That., were you., Antony^ the son of Ccesar. 
— By all means to be thus pointed, so as to make 
Anto7iy the vocative, the name addressed ; not, as it 
sometimes ludicrously is, " were you Antony the son 
of Ceesar." Son., of course, is emphatic. 

354- Produce his body to the market-place. — 
We now say " produce to " with a person only. 
[But, as White suggests, Antony here uses produce 
in its radical sense, to bear forth.'} 

354. Speak in the order of his funeral. — In 
the order is in the course of the ceremonial. [Com- 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 297 

pare the expression in the Prayer Book, " The Order 
for the Burial of the Dead."] Compare " That An- 
tony speak in his funei-al," in 356 ; and " Come I to 
speak in Ccesar's funeral," in 397- 

356. The Aside here is not marked in the old 
copies. 

357- By your pardon. — I will explain, by, or 
with, your pardon, leave, permission. " By your 
leave " is still used. 

357. Have all true rites. — This is the reading of 
all the old copies. For true Pope substituted due^ 
which is also the correction of Mr. Collier's MS. an- 
notator. [But, as Collier says, " the change seems 
rather for the worse," and he does not adopt it.] 

357. It shall advantage viore than do us wrong'. 

— This old verb, to advantage^ is fast slipping out 
of our possession. — Here again we have, according 
to the old grammar, simple futurity indicated by 
shall with the third person. See 181. 

358. / know not ivhad may fall. — We now com- 
monly say to fall out., rather than simply to fall, or 
to befall. 

359. 7ou shall not in your funeral speech blame 
us. — The sense and the prosody concur in demand- 
ing an emphasis on us. 

359. And say you do't. — We do not now in seri- 
ous or elevated writing use this kind of contraction. 

361. The original stage direction after this speech 
is, '■''Exeunt. Manet Antony." 

362. O pardojt me, thou bleeding piece of earth. 

— So in all the early editions, and also in the greater 
number of those of the last century [and in Hud- 
son's and White's] ; but unaccountably altered into 
" thou piece of bleeding earth " in the Variorum 
edition of Malone and Boswell, the text of which 



298 Philological Commentary, [act hi. 

was generally taken as the standard for subsequent 
reprints, till the true reading was restored by Mr. 
Knight. I 

362. That ever lived in the tide of times. — This 
must mean, appai^ently, in the course or flow of 
times. Tide and time^ however, properly mean the 
same thing. Tide is only another form of Zeit., the 
German word answering to our English time. 
[Compare spring-tide^ even-tide^ etc.] Time, again, 
is the French terns, or temps, the Latin tempus 
(which has also in one of its senses, the part of the 
head where time is indicated to the touch by the 
pulsations of the blood, been strangely corrupted, 
both in French and English, into tem.ple, — dis- 
tinguished, however, in the former tongue from 
temple, a church, by a difierence of gender, and 
also written tempe). [^Time is Saxon {tima), not 
French.] 

362. [ Woe to the hand. — So the Folio of 1623. 
Dyce and White read hands. '\ jl 

362. A curse shall light tipon the loins of men. — ' ' 
This is one of the most remarkable of the new read- 
ings for which we are indebted to Mr. Collier's MS. 
annotator. The old printed text, " the limbs of 
men," was felt by every editor not enslaved to the 
First Folio to be in the highest degree suspicious. 
By most of them the limbs of men seems to have 
been undei^stood to mean nothing more than the 
bodies or persons of men generally. Steevens, how- 
ever, says, "Antony means that a future " curse 
shall commence in distempei^s seizing on the limbs 
of men, and be succeeded by commotion, cruelty, 
and desolation over Italy." A strangely pi-ecise 
style of prophecy ! For limbs Warburton proposed 
to substitute line, Hanmer kind, and Johnson 
lives, — " unless," he adds, " we read these lymmes 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 299 

of men, that is, these bloodhounds of men." The 
lymm, lyjn, lime, lii?ze>', or Ih/iekozmd was used in 
hunting the wild boar. The loins of men means, 
of course, the generations of men. Even if pro- 
posed as nothing more, this would have been one 
of the most plausible of conjectures, and would 
probably have at once commanded general accept- 
ance. Warburton hit upon nearly what seems to 
have been the meaning of Shakespeare, with his //;ze 
of men ; but how much less Shakespearian the ex- 
pression ! _ [Hudson and White give limbs^ but the 
latter considers it a very doubtful reading, and is 
" almost sure " that Shakespeare wrote " theyonnes 
of men." Staunton suggests " the tombs of men," 
and quotes in illustration the common Oriental male- 
diction, " Cursed be thy grave ! "] 

363. Quartered with the hands of war. — So 
afterwards, in 425, " Here is himself, marred, as 
you see, with traitors." See 124. We should now 
rather regard the hands as the agents, and say " by 
the hands of war." 

362. With Ate by his side. — This Homeric 
goddess had taken a strong hold of Shakespeare's 
imagination. In Much Ado About Nothing., ii. i, 
Benedick, inveighing to Don Pedro against the Lady 
Beatrice, says, '' You shall find her the infernal Ate 
in good apparel." In King John., iv. i, John's 
mother, Qiieen Elinor, is described by Chatillon as 
" an Ate stirring him to blood and strife." And in 
Love's Labour s Lost., v. 2, Biron, at the representa- 
tion of the Nine Woithies, calls out, " More Ates., 
more Ates; stir them on! stir them on!" Where 
did Shakespeare get acquainted with this divinity, 
whose name does not occur, I believe, even in any 
Latin author? 



300 Ppiilological Commentary, [act hi. 

362. Cry Havoc I — Havoc is the Saxon hafoc^ 
meaning waste, destruction ; whence the ha"i.vk^ so 
called as the bird of waste and ravage. Johnson 
states on the authority of a learned correspondent 
(known to be Sir William Blackstone), that " in the 
military operations of old times, havoc was the word 
by which declaration was made that no quarter 
should be given." Milton in one place makes a 
verb of this substantive : " To waste and havoc 
yonder world " (^Par. JLost, x. 617). 

362. Let slip the dogs of war. — Notwithstand- 
ing the apparently considerable difference between 
schlupfeii and scJilafen^ by which they are severally 
represented in modern German, slip ^ may possibly 
have been originally the same word with sleep. In 
the Anglo-Saxon, although the common form is 
slcBpan for to sleep and slipan for to slip., we find 
indications of slepan having been used for both. 
To sleep, or fall asleep, may have been regarded as 
a gliding, or softly moving, away. — To let slip a 
dog at a deer, etc., was, as Malone remarks, the 
technical phrase of Shakespeare's time. Hence the 
leash., out of which it was thus allowed to escape, 
was called the slips. The proper meaning, indeed, 
of leash (in French lesse., or laisse., from laisser),\s 
that which lets go ; and this is probably also the true 
meaning of the Spanish lasso ; although, that which 
lets go, or from which we let go, being also necessa- 
rily that which has previously detained, lesse., lasso, 
leash, and also lease, have all, as well as slip, come 
to be regarded as involving rather the latter notion 
(of detention or tenure), that being really the prin- 
cipal or most important office which what is called 
a slip or leash seems to perform. It was perhaps in 
this way also that the verb to let acquired the sense 



sc. I.] 'Julius C^sar. 301 

(now nearly obsolete) of to hinder, as well as its 
more ordinary sense of to permit. 

It is observed by Steele, in The Tatler^ No. 137, 
that by " the dogs of war " Shakespeare probably 
meant^r^, sword, and yamlne, according to what is 
said in the Chorus to Act First oi King- Henry V. : — 

Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, 

Assume the port of Mars ; and, at his heels, 

Leashed in like hounds, should Famine, Sword, and Fire 

Crouch for employment. 

To this we might add what Talbot says, in i Henry 
VI. iv. 2, to the Captains of the French forces be- 
fore Bordeaux : — 

You tempt the fury of my three attendants, 

Lean Famine, quartering Steel, and climbing Fire. 

In illustration of the passage from Henry tJie Fifth 
Steevens quotes what Holinshed makes that King to 
have said to the people of Roan (or Rouen) : "He 
declared that the Goddess of Battle, called Bellona, 
had three handmaidens ever of necessity attending 
upon her, as Blood, Fire, and Famine." And at 
that from Henry the Sixth Malone gives the follow- 
ing extract from Hall's Chronicle : " The Goddess 
of War, called Bellona, . . . hath these three hand- 
maids ever of necessity attending on her ; Blood, 
Fire, and Famine ; which three damosels be of that 
force and strength that every one of them alone is 
able and sufficient to torment and afflict a proud 
prince ; and they all joined together are of puissance 
to destroy the most populous country and most rich- 
est region of the world." 

It might, perhaps, be questioned whether the 
words " And let slip the dogs of war " ought not 
to be considered as also part of the exclamation of 
Caesar's spii'it. 



302 Philological Commentary, [act hi. 

362. That this foul deed, etc. — So that. 

362. With carrion men. — See i77' — The stage 
direction in the oiiginal edition is ^'- Enter Octavids 
Servant." 

362. Tou serve Octavius Ccesar. — So called 
throughout both this Play and that of Antony and 
Cleopatra. He was properly now Ccesar Octa- 
viatzzis. 

365. The stage direction, Seeing' the Body., is 
modern. 

366. For mine eyes. — This, which is clearly right, 
is the reading of the Second Folio. The First has 
" Passion I see is catching from mine eyes." [Dyce 
suggests begin here, which White approves ; but 
both leave began in the text.] 

368. Tell him ivhat hath chanced. — See 69. 

368. No Rome of safoty. — See '^6. 

368. Till I have borne this corse. — Corse here is 
a modern conjectural substitution for the course of 
the First and Second Folios, and the coarse of the 
Third and Fourth. 

368. The cruel issue of these bloody men. — The 
result or end which they have brought about. 

36S. According to the which. — This archaism 
occurs occasionally in Shakespeare, as it does also in 
the common translation of the Scriptures : " Eveiy 
tree in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed " 
(^Gen. i. 29). [Compare the French le-qtcel.~\ 

368. Lend me your hand. — We should now 
rather say a hand. — The stage direction that fol- 
lows is in the original edition, '''•Exeunt. Enter 
Brutus and goes into the Pulpit^ and Cassius with 
the Plebeians." 



sc. II.] Julius C-^esar. 303 

Scene II. — 369. For Cit. here the original edi- 
tion lias Pie.; and afterwards for i CzV., 2 CzV., 
3 Cit.., it has I Pie.., 2, 3 ; and for Cit. at 375, etc., 
it has All. 

370. A)id part the numbers. — Divide the multi- 
tude. 

370. And public reasons shall be rendered. — To 
retider is to give back or in return for. Thus in 348, 
as w^e have seen, Antony asks Brutus and his con- 
federates to render him their hands in return for his 
own. Here the act wliich had been done, the slaugh- 
ter of Caesar, is that in retui'n or compensation for 
which, as it were, the reasons are to be given. — For 
the prosody of the present line, see the note on " She 
dreamt to-night she saw my statue " in 246. It may 
be observed that in the First Folio, where the elision 
of the e in the verbal affix -ed is usually marked, 
the spelling is here rendred; but this may leave it 
otill doubtful whether the word was intended to be 
represented as of two or of three syllables. It is the 
same in 372. 

373. Exit Cassius., etc. Brtttus goes into the 
Rostrttm. — This stage direction is all modern. 
The Rostrum is the same that is called " the public 
chair" in 3S8, and "the pulpit" elsewhere. See 
317, 319, 354, 357, 359. Rostru?n is not a word 
which Shakespeare anywhere uses. Nor, indeed, is 
it a legitimate formation. It ought to be Rostra., in 
the plural, as it always is in Latin. 

373- The noble Brutus is asceizded. — Even still 
we commonly say is come., is become., is gone., is 
arrived., is Jled., is escaped., etc. In the freer con- 
dition of the language formerly such a mode of ex- 
pression was carried a good deal farther. Thus, in 
the present Play, we have in 328, " [Antony is] fled 



304 Philological Commentary, [act hi. 

to his house amazed ; " in 398, " O judgment ! thou 
art fled to brutish beasts ; " in 45S, " Brutus and 
Cassius Are rid like madmen through the gates of 
Rome ; " in 509, " Hark, he is arrived ; " in 623, 
" The deep of night is crept upon our talk ; " in 
703, " This morning are they fled away and gone ; '* 
in 721, "Time is come round;" and "My life is 
run his compass." 

[/«;« come^ he is g'otie, etc., are equivalent to / 
have come^ he has gone^ etc. The former are the 
earlier and natural forms, and are still in good use, 
though decidedly less common than the latter. The 
writers on English grammar have generally either 
ignoi-ed these obsolescent forms, or have attempted 
to explain them as -passive.* In French, Italian, 
German, and other languages, this conjugation with 
be is the regular one for certain verbs. It is not 
found in the Spanish. In Italian and German, as 
in Anglo-Saxon, the verb to be can be conjugated 
only in this way : io sono stato^ ich bin gewesen., etc. 
Of course, forms like / have bee7i^ j'(^^ ^/e, yo he 
sido, etc., are illogical, according to the commonly 
received explanation of the use of have as an auxil- 
iary. See Latham, English La7tguage^ Fifth Ed. 

§ 717-] 

374. Romans, cotintry?ne7t, and lovers. — See 259. 

374. Have respect to ?nine hojior. — That is, 

merely, look to (not look up to). We still employ 

* [One of the most popular, and on the whole one of the 
least objectionable, of the school " Grammars" of the day 
states the matter thus : " Most intransitive verbs do not ad- 
mit of the passive form. . . . But the verbs CO ;«t' and ^<?, and 
perhaps a few others, maj', in some cases, properly assume 
the passive form ; as The time is come. Verbs of this de- 
scription are usually denominated 7ieiiter passive verbs." 
Of course, is come is really no more "passive" than is 
black.'\ 



sc. II,] Julius C^sar. 305 

such words as respect and regard in different senses, 
according to circLunstances. I look with regard, or 
with respect, upon this man, or upon that institution. 
With regard, or witli respect, to another man or 
institution I have notliing to say but what is con- 
demnatory, or nothing to say at all. 

374. Censure me. — That is, merely, pass judg- 
ment upon me. See 328. 

374. Any dear friend of CcBsar's^ to him I say. 
— It is " to them I say " in the Second Folio. 

374. Not that I loved CcBsar less. — Less than he 
(the " dear friend") loved Caesar. 

374. J5tit that I loved Ro?ne more. — More than 
he (the " dear friend of Caesar ") loved Rome. 

374. Had you rather. — See note on Had as lief 
in 54. 

374. To live all freeme7i. — It is conunonly print- 
ed " free men," in two words. But the writer cannot 
have. intended that such prominence should be given 
to the term men^ the notion conveyed by which is 
equally contained in slaves; for which, indeed, we 
might have had bondmen.^ with no difference of effect. 
If it ought to be "free men" here, it should be 
" Who is here so base that would be a bond man? " 
a few lines farther on. In the original edition it is 
" freemen." 

374. There is tears, etc. — In many modern edi- 
ti6ns this is changed into " There are." But the 
tears, joy, etc., are regarded as making one thing. 
Instead of " There is," it might have been " This 
is," or " That is." 

375. The stage direction is modern. 

376. The question of his death. — The word 
question is here used in a somewhat peculiar sense. 
It seems to mean the statement of the reasons. In 

20 



3o6 Philological Commentary, [act hi. 



a note on the expression in Uatfilet^ ii. 2, " Little 
eyases, that ciy out on the top of question," Steevens 
gives it as his opinion that question " in this place,: 
as in many others, signifies conversation^ dialogue 
And he quotes in corroboration Antonio's remark, 
in The Merchant of Venice^ iv. i, " I pray you, 
think you question with the Jew." But in that 
passage the meaning of the word is merely the 
ordinary one, you debate, argue, liold controversy, 
with. The following may perhaps be adduced as 
an instance of the use of the word in a somewhat 
larger sense, involving little or nothing of the notion 
of a doubt or dispute : " Thou shalt accompany] 
us to the place, where we will, not appearing what 
we are, have some question with the shephei'd." 
Winter's Tale, iv. i. 

376. JVor his offences enforced. — Dwelt upon 
and pressed, or moi-e than simply stated. In the 
same sense in Coriolanus, ii. 3, the tribune Sicinius 
exhorts the populace touching Marcius — "Enforce 
his pride. And his old hate unto you." 

376. As which of you shall not? — We find which 
in the Saxon forms hwilc, hwylc, and hwelc — forms 
which have been supposed to arise out of the com- 
bination of the relative hwa with lie (like), the 
annexation being designed to give greater general- 
ization or indefiniteness of meaning to the pronoun. 
At all events, the word is used with reference to 
nouns of all genders, as is also its I'epresentative the 
whilk, or quhilk, of the old Scottish dialect, and as 
the English which, too, formerly was even when an 
ordinary relative (as we have it in the time-honored 
formula "Our Father which art in heaven"), and 
still is both whenever it is interrogative and likewise 
when the antecedent to which it is relative is either 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 307 

suppressed or joined with it in the same concord and 
government. Thus, we say of persons as well as of 
things, "Which was it?" and "I do not know 
which of them it was," as Brutus, addressing his 
fellow-citizens, has here " Which of you ; " and it 
is even allowable to say " Louis XVI., which king 
it was in whose reign — or, in the reign of which 
king it was — that the French Revolution broke 
out." 

The stage direction in the original edition is, 
'"''Enter Mark Antony^ with Ccesar's body." 

376. My best lover. — See 259. 

381. Shall now be crowned in Brtitus. — The 
now is not in the old texts, but was supplied by 
Pope, and has been retained by Malone and Bos- 
well, as well as by Steevens. [So Collier, Hudson, 
and White. Dyce follows the old text, but doubts 
its integrity.] It may not be the true w^ord, but that 
some word is wanting is certain. The dialogue here 
is evidently intended to be metrical, and " Shall be 
crowned in Brutus " is not a possible commencement 
of a verse. 

386. Do grace to CcEsar's corpse. — We have lost 
this idiom, though we still say " to do honor to." 
[Compare 407 : " do him reverence."] 

389. lam beholden to you. — Both here and also 
in 391 the first three Folios have all beholding., 
which may possibly have been the way in which 
Shakespeare wrote the word (as it is that in which 
it was often written in his day), but may nevei"theless 
be rectified on the same principle as other similar 
improprieties with which all modern editors have 
taken that liberty. Yet beholding is, I believe, 
always Bacon's word ; as in his Tenth Essay — 
" The stage is more beholding to love than the life 



3o8 Philological Commentary, [act 



1 



of man." Even in Clarendon, reporting tlie words 
of Qiieen Henrietta to himself, we have — "Her 
old confessor, Father Philips, . . . alwa)'S told her, 
that, as she ought to continue firm and constant to 
her own religion, so she was to live well towards the 
Protestants who deserved well from her, and to whom 
she was beJwldijtg" {Hist. Book xiii.) The initial 
syllable of the woi-d is of more interest than its ter- 
mination. 

The complete disappearance from the modern 
form of the English language of the verbal prefix 
g-e is a remarkable fact, and one which has not 
attracted the notice which it deserves. This aug- 
ment may be said to have been the favoi^ite and most 
distinguishing peculiarity of the language in the 
period preceding the Norman Conquest. In the 
inflection of the vei'b it was not merely, as in mod- 
ern German, the sign of the past participle passive, 
but might be prefixed to any other part ; and the 
words of all kinds which commenced with it, and in 
which it was not inflectional, amounted to several 
thousands. Yet now there is no native English 
word having ge for its initial S3'llable in existence; 
nor, indeed, has there been for many centuries : 
there are not only no such words in Chaucer, whose 
age (the fourteenth century) is reckoned the com- 
mencement of the period of what is denominated 
Middle English ; there are none even in Robert de 
Brunne, and very few, if any, in Robert of Glouces- 
ter, who belong to the thirteenth century, or to the 
age of what is commonly designated Early English. 
The inflectional ge is found at a comparatively late 
date only in the reduced or softened form of jk, and 
even so scarcely after the middle of the sixteenth 
century (which may be taken as the date of the com- 



sc. II.] Julius Cjesar. 309 

mencement of Modern English) except in a few 
antique words preserved or revived by Spenser. If 
two or three such words as yclad and yclept are to 
be found in Shakespeare, they are introduced with a 
view to a burlesque or grotesque effect, as they might 
be by a writer of the present day. They did not 
belong to the language of his age any more than 
they did to that of Thomson, who in the last century 
sprinkled his Castle of Indolence with words of this 
description, the better to keep up his imitation of 
Spenser. As for the " star-ypointing pyramid " 
attributed to Milton (in his lines on Shakespeare), it 
is in all pi'obability a mistake of his modern editors : 
" ypointe(f " might have been credible, but " ypoint- 
ing''^ scarcely is. The true reading probably is 
" starry-pointing." [Compare Marsh, Lect. o?z Eng. 
Lang. jFirst Series, p. 333.] It has commonly 
been assumed that, with such rare and insignificant 
exceptions (if exceptions they are to be considered), 
the old prefix ge has entirely passed away or been 
ejected from the language in its present state, — that 
it has dropped off, like a decayed member, without 
anything being substituted in its place. But the fact 
is not so. It is certain, that, both in its inflectional 
and in its non-inflectional character, it still exists in a 
good many words in a disguised form, — in that name- 
ly of be. Many of our words beginning with be 
cannot be otherwise accounted for. Our beloved, 
for example, is undoubtedly the Saxon gelufed. 
Another remarkable instance is that of the familiar 
word belief or believe. The Saxon has no such 
verb as belyfait; its form for our believe is gelyfan 
(the same with the modern German glauben). 
Again, to become (at least in the sense of to suit) 
is the Saxon gecweman : there is no becweman. 



3IO Philological Commentary, [act hi. 

Become^ in this sense, it ought to be noticed, has 
apparently no connection with to come (from coman^ 
or cuman) ; we have its root civeman in the old 
English to quem^ meaning to please, used by Chau- 
cer. And the German also, like our modern English, 
has in this instance lost or rejected both the simple 
form and the ge- form, retaining, or substituting, 
only bequem and bequemen. Nor is there any 
belang or belong ; our modern belong is from the 
ancient gela?ig. In like manner there is no such 
Saxon verb as besecan; there is only gesecan^ from 
which we have formed our beseek and beseech. So 
tacn^ or taceft., is a token, from which is getacnian^ 
to denote by a token or sign ; there is no betacnian : 
yet we say to betoken. And there are probably 
other examples of the same thing among the words 
now in use having be for the commencing syllable 
(of which the common dictionaries give us about a 
couple of hundreds), although the generality of them 
are only modern fabrications constructed in imitation 
of one another, and upon no other principle than the 
assumption that the syllable in question may be pre- 
fixed to almost any verb whatever. Such are be- 
praise, bepoxvder, bespatter^ betkuinp^ and many 
more. Only between thirty and forty seem to be 
traceable to Saxon verbs beginning with be. 

The facts that have been mentioned sufficiently 
explain the word beholden. It has nothing to do 
with the modern behold, or the ancient behealdan 
(which, like its modern representative, signified to 
see or look on), but is another form, according to 
the corruption which we have seen to take place 
in so many other instances, of gehealden, the past 
participle passive of healdan, to hold ; whence its 
meaning, here and always, of held, bound, obliged. 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 311 

It corresponds to the modern German gehaltett^ of 
the same signification, and is quite distinct from 
behalten^ the past participle passive of the verb 
behalten, which signifies kept, preserved. 

One word, which repeatedly occurs in Shake- 
speare, containing the prefix g'e^ has been genei-ally 
misunderstood by his editors. What they all, I 
believe without exception, print Iwis^ or Iwiss, as 
if it were a verb with its nominative, is undoubtedly 
one word, and that an adverb, signifying certainly, 
probably. It ought to be written yivis^ or ywiss^ cor- 
responding as it does exactly to the modern German 
gewiss. It is true, indeed, that Sir Frederic Madden 
in the Glossary to his edition of Syr Gaivayne 
(printed, for the Roxburgh Club, in 1839) expresses 
a doubt whether it wei^e " not regarded as a pronoun 
and verb by the writers of the fifteenth century." 
But this supposition Dr. Guest i^Phil. Proc. ii. 160) 
regards as wholly grjituitous. He believes there is 
not a single instance to be found in which wiss^ or 
wisse^ has been used in the sense of to knoiv^ " till 
our modern glossarists and editors chose to give it 
that signification." Johnson in his Dictionary enters 
wis as a verb, meaning to think, to imagine. »So also 
Nares in his Glossary. [The error is not corrected 
in Halliwell and Wright's revised edition of Nares, 
1859.] It is the only explanation which any of these 
authorities give of the form in question. " The pre- 
terite," adds Nares, "is vjist. The present tense is 
seldom found but in the first person ; the pretei'ite 
was common in all the persons." In a note on the 
passage in T^he Merchant of Venice^ ii. 9, " There 
be fools, alive, I wis [as they all print it]. Silvered 
o'er," Steevens writes ( Variorum edition, v. 71) : "/ 
w/5, 1 know. PFme;?, German. So m King Henry 



312 Philological Commentary, [act hi. 

the Sixth : ' I wis your grandam had no worser 
match.' Again, in the Comedy of King Cambyses : 
* Yea, I wis, shall you, and that with all speed.' 
Sidney, Ascham, and Waller use the word." The 
line here quoted from Shakespeare is not in King 
Henry VI. ^ but in Richard III., i. 3, and runs, " I 
wis [ Thvis~\ your grandam had a worser match." So 
in the Taming- of the Shrew., i. i, " TwiSf it is not 
half way to her heart." Chaucer, though his adverb 
is commonly ywis, has at least in one instance sim- 
ply wis : — 

Nay, nay, quod she, God help me so, as wis 
This is to much, and it were Goddes wil. 

C. T. 11,781. 

The syllable wis is, no doubt, the same element that 
we have both in the German wissen and in our Eng- 
lish guess. [Compare Marsh, Lectures., First Series, 
P- 333' foot-note.] 

394. We are blest that Rome is rid of him. — 
The Second Folio has " We sltg glad." 

398. [ The evil that men do., etc. — Compare 
Henry VIII., iv. 2 : " Men's evil manners live in 
brass ; their virtues we write in water."] 

398. Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest. 
— Compare " By your pardon" of 357. 

398. When that the foor have cried. — The 
that in such cases as this is merely a summary or 
compendious expression of what follows, which was 
convenient, perhaps, in a ruder condition of tlie lan- 
guage, as more distinctly marking out the clause to 
be comprehended under the when. We still com- 
monly use it with now, when it serves to di.' . "■ i^^e 
the conjunction from the adverb, although « • ■ 
other conjunctions which are never adverl ' 
cer often introduces with a that even i ; 



I 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 313 

follows a relative pronoun; as (C. T. 982), "The 
Minotaur which tJiat he slew in Crete ; " or ( C. T. 
988) "With Creon, which that was of Thebes 
king." 

398. Tozi all did see, that on the Lupercal. — 
See 17. 

398. What cause "withholds you, theft, to mourn 
for him. ? — We should now say, " Withholds you 
from mourning." We could not use withhold fol- 
lowed by the infinitive. 

401. Has he not, masters ? — The common read- 
ing is "Has he, masters?" [So Collier, Dyce, 
Hudson, and White.] The prosody clearly demands 
the insertion of some monosyllable ; Capell accord- 
ingly inserted my before masters; but the word 
required by the sense and the connection evidently 
is not. The correction, though conjectural, is there- 
fore one which may be regarded as of nearly abso- 
lute necessity and certainty. Masters was the 
common term of address to a miscellaneous assembly 
formerly. So again in 407 ; where, however, the 
word is Maisters in both the First and Second 
Folios, although not usually so elsewhere. 

403. Some will dear abide it. — See 326. 

407. And none so poor to do him reverence. — The 
omission of one of two correlative words (such as the 
as answering to the so here) is, when no ambiguity 
is thereby occasioned, allowable in almost all cir- 
cumstances. The manner in which the clause is 
hung on to what precedes by the conjunction is such 
as to preclude the necessity of a new copula or affir- 
mative term. It is as if it were " with none so poor," 
etc. And and is logically (whatever it may be ety- 
mologically) equivalent to with. So in 164, "Yes, 



II 



314 Philological Commentary, [act hi. 

every man of them ; and no man here But honours 

y°"-" il 

407. Let but the commons hear this testament, — II 

The commonalty, the common people. 

407. And dip their napkins in his sacred blood. — 
A napkin (connected with napery^ from the French 
nappe^ a cloth, which, again, appears to be a cor- 
ruption of the Latin mappa^ of the same signification, 
the original also of our -map^ and of the mappe of 
the French mappemonde^ that is mappa mundi) 
is still the common name for a pocket handkerchief 
in Scotland. It is also that commonly employed by 
Shakespeare : see the Third Act of Othello, and the 
Fourth Act of As You Like Lt. — Compare 247. 
[So in Hamlet, v. 2. Compare Luke xix. 20; 
John xi. 44 ; xx. 7.] 

411. Read the will, etc. — This and most of the 
subsequent exclamations of the populace need not be 
considered as verse. Jj 

412. / have o'er shot myself, to tell you of it. — fl 
That is, I have overshot myself (done more than I 
had intended) by telling you of it. 

418. He comes down, etc. — This stage directioi, 
is not in the older copies. 

421. Stand from the hearse. — The hearse was 
the frame or stand on which the body lay. It is the 
French herse or herce, meaning a portcullis or har- 
row ; whence the English term seems to have been 
applied to whatever was constructed of bars or beams 
laid crosswise. 

425. That day he overcame the Nervii. — These 
words certainly ought not to be made a direct state- 
ment, as they are by the punctuation of the Variorum 
and of most other modern editions. [Collier, Dyce, 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 315 

Hudson, and White have the same punctuation as 
Craik.] 

425. As rushing out of doors, to be resolved. — 
See 338. 

425. This was the most unkindest cut of all. — 
See 336. 

425. For Brtitus, as you know, was Ccesar's an- 
gel. — I cannot think that the meaning can be, as 
Boswell suggests, his guardian angel. It is much 
more natural to understand it as being simply his 
best beloved, his darling. 

425. For when the noble Ccesar saw him stab. — 
The him is here strongly emphatic, notv\^ithstanding 
its occupation of one of the places assigned by the com- 
mon rule to short or unaccented syllables. See 435. 

425. Even at the base of Pompeys statue. — 
See 246. 

425. Which all the while ran blood. — This is 
almost in the words of North's Plutarch : " Against 
the base w^hereupon Pompey's image stood, which 
ran all of a gore blood." 

425. Whilst bloody treason flourished over us. — 
That is, treason triumphed, — put forth, as it were, 
its flowers, — shot up into vigorous efflorescence, — 
over us. 

425. The dint of pity. — Dint seems to be the 
same word with dent, or indentation, that is, the im- 
pression made as by a tooth. It is commonly dent 
in the old writers. 

425. These are gracious drops. — Falling, the 
thought seems to be, like the bountiful and refresh- 
ing rain from heaven. 

425. Marred, as you see, with traitors. — See 362. 

431. We will be revenged, etc. — This speech is 
printed in the First Folio as if it were verse, thus : — 



31 6 Philological Commentary, [act hi 

We will be revenged : revenge ; 

About, — seek, — burn, — fire, — kill, — slay ! 

Let not a traitor live. 

432. Stay, countrymen. — To this speech Mr. 
Colliers MS. annotator appends the stage direction, 
" They are rushing out." 

435. What private griefs they have. — See 129. 
So again in 518: "Speak your griefs softly;" and 
" Enlarge your griefs." 

435. That gave 7ne public leave to speak of 
him. — The Second Folio has " That give me." 
Mr. Collier restores gave. 

435. For I have neither wit., etc. — This is the 
reading of the Second Folio. The First has writ, 
which Malone actually adopts and defends ! Here is 
a most animated and admirable enumeration of the 
various powers, faculties, and arts by v/hich a great 
orator is enabled " to stir men's blood," beginning, 
naturally, with that gift of imagination and invention 
which is at once the highest of them all and the 
fountain of most of the others ; and this editor, rather 
than admit the probability of the misprint of a single 
letter in a volume swarming with undeniable typo- 
graphical errata, would make Antony substitute the 
ridiculous remark that the first i^equisite for his pur- 
pose, and that in which he was chiefly deficient, was 
what he calls a writ, meaning a written speech ! Is 
it possible that such a critic can have had the smallest 
feeling of anything in Shakespeare above the level 
of the merest prose? " Wit," he goes on to tell us, 
" in our author's time had not its present significa- 
tion, but meant understanding." The fact is, that 
there are numerous passages in Shakespeare in which 
the word has exactly its present signification. " Sir 
Thurio," says Valentine to Silvia, in The Two Gen' 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 317 

tlemen of Verona (ii. 4), "borrows his wit from 
your ladyship's looks, and spends what he borrows, 
kindly, in our company." " Sir," replies Thurio, 
" if you spend word for word with me, I shall make 
your wit bankrupt." So in Much Ado About Noth- 
ings i. I : " There is a kind of inerry war," says 
Leonato, speaking of his niece Beatrice, " betwixt 
Signior Benedick and her ; they never meet but there 
is a skirmish of wit between them." Or, to go no 
farthei", how would Malone, or those who think with 
him (if there be any), explain the conversation about 
Benedick's wit in the First Scene of the Fifth Act of 
the last-mentioned Play without taking the word as 
there used in the sense which it now ordinarily bears? 
In the passage before us, to be sure, its meaning is 
more comprehensive, corresponding nearly to what 
it still conveys in the expression " the wit of man." 

We have the same natui'al conjunction of terms that 
we have here in Measure for Measure, v. i, where 
the Duke addresses the discomfited Angelo : — 

Hast thou or word, or wit, or impudence, 
That yet can do thee office ? 

435. And bid them speak for me. — The the?n 
here, emphatic and yet occupying a place in the 
verse in which it is commonly laid down that only a 
short or unaccented syllable can properly stand, is 
in precisely the same pi'edicament with the him of 
" When the noble Csesar saw him stab," of 425. 
See 536. 

443. To every several man. — Several is con- 
nected with the verb sever, which is from the Latin 
separo, through the French sevrer (though that lan- 
guage has also separer, as we too have separate^. 
" Every several man" is every man by himself or in 
his individual capacity. " These properties of arts 



3i8 Philological Commentary, [act hi. 

or policy, and dissimulation or closeness," says Ba- 
con, in his 6th Essay, " are, indeed, habits and fac- 
ulties several, and to be distinguished." [See also 
JVumbers xxviii. 13, 29 ; 2 Kings xv. 5 ; Matthew 
XXV. 15. So Milton : — 

Each fettered ghost slips to his several grave. 

Hymn on Nativ. 234. 

Which he, to grace his tributary gods, 
By course commits to several government. 

Comiis, 24.] 

448. He hath left them you. — The emphasis is 
on you. 

449. And with the brands fire the traitors^ 
hmises. — This is the reading of the First Folio : the 
Second has " all the traitors' houses," which may be 
right ; for the prolongation oi fire into a dissyllable, 
though it will give us the requisite number of sylla- 
bles (which satisfies both Malone and Steevens), 
will not make a very musical verse. Yet the harsh- 
ness and dissonance produced by the irregular fall 
of the accent, in addition to the diteresis, in the case 
of the word fire^ iTi'^y be thought to add to the force 
and expressiveness of the line. Mr. Collier omits 
the " all." [So Dyce, Hudson, and White.] 

453. Take thou what course thou wilt I — How 
now ^fellow? — It is impossible not to suspect that 
Shakespeare must have written " Take now what 
course thou wilt." The emphatic pronoun, or even a 
pronoun at all, is unaccountable here. The abrupt- 
ness, or unexpectedness, of the appearance of the 
Servant is vividly expressed by the unusual con- 
struction of this verse, in which we have an example 
of the extreme license, or deviation from the normal 
form, consisting in the reversal of the regular ac- 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 319 

centuation in the last foot. Thus we have in Milton, 
Paradise Lost^ x. 840, — 

Beyond all past example and future ; 
and again, xi. 683, — 

To whom thus Michael : These are the product. 

At \&2i%\.^ future^ which is common in his verse, has 
everywhere else the accent on the first syllable. 
Product is found nowhere else in Milton, and no- 
where in Shakespeare. The stage directions before 
and after this speech are in the original edition, 
'"''Exit Plebeians" and '■'■Enter Servant." 

457. He comes upon a wish. — Coincidently with, 
as it were upon the back of, my wish for him. See 
588. 

458. / heard them say. — In all the old copies it 
is " I heard him say ; " which Jennens explains 
thus : '''•Hi7n evidently refers to Octavius, who, as 
he was coming into Rome, had seen Brutus and 
Cassius riding like madmen through the gates, and 
had related the same in the presence of the servant." 
The conjectural emendation oithem., however, which 
appears to have been first proposed by Capell, had 
been long generally received, and is confirmed by 
the authority of Mr. Collier's manuscript annotator. 
[White calls it " a needless change." Dyce and 
Hudson also read " him."] 

458. Are rid like madmen. — See 373. 

459. Belike they had some notice of the people. — 
This now obsolete word belike (probably) is com- 
monly held to be a compound of by and like. But 
-it may perhaps be rather the ancient gelice (in like 
manner), with a slight change of meaning. See 
389. — " Some notice of the people" is some notice 
respecting the people. 



320 Philological Commentary, [act hi. 

Scene III. — 460. And things unlikely charge 
my fantasy. — Instead of unlikely the old text has 
unluckily. Unlikely^ which appears for the first 
time in Mr. Collier's one volume edition, is the 
restoration of his MS. annotator. It at once, and 
in the most satisfactory manner, turns nonsense into 
sense. [Dyce, Hudson, Staunton, and White give 
" unlucky," which is quite as satisfactory.] 

460. I have no ivill, etc. — Very well illustrated 
by Steevens in a quotation from The Merchant of 
Venice^! ii. 5, where Shylock says, — 

I have no mind of feasting forth to-night : 
But I will go. 

The only stage direction here in the original 
edition is before this speech : '•'■Enter Cinna the I 
Poet^ and after him the Plebeians" 

468. Ay^ a?id truly, you were best. — This is 
strictly equivalent to " You would be best," and 
might perhaps be more easily resolved than the more 
common idiom, " You had best." But all languages ' 
have phraseologies coming under the same head with 
this, which are not to be explained upon strictly 
logical principles. Witness the various applications 
of the Greek £p(£), the French il y «, etc. In the 
following sentence from As Tou Like It, i. i, we 
have both the idioms that have been referred to : 

" I had as lief thou didst break his neck as his finger, J 
and thou wert best look to it." [See on 54.] ^ 

469. Wisely, I say, I am, a bachelor. — Cinna's 
meaning evidently is, Wisely I am a bachelor. But 
that is not conveyed by the way in which the passage 
has hitherto been always pointed — " Wisely I say." 

470. Tou^ll bear me a bang for that. — You'll get 
a bang for that (from some one). The me goes for 
nothing. See 89 and 205. 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 321 

482. Cin. I afn 7iot, etc. — This speech was care- 
lessly omitted in the generality of the modern texts, 
including that of the standard edition of Malone and 
Boswell, till restored by Mr. Knight. It is given, 
however, in Jennens's collation (1774)5 'ind he does 
not note its omission by any preceding editor. 

483. Turn him going. — Turn him off; let him 
go. The expression occurs also in As Tou Like It., 
iii. I : " Do this expediently, and turn him going." 
So in Sir Thomas Urquhart's translation oi Rabelais., 
B. i. ch. 35 : " Avoid hence, and get thee going." — 
This story of Cinna is told by Plutarch in his Life 
of Caesar. He says, the people, falling upon him in 
their rage, slew him outright in the market-place. 

The stage direction with which the Act termi- 
nates in the original edition is, '"''Exeunt all the Ple- 
beians." 

ACT rv. 

Scene I. The same. A Room in Antony's 
House. — The original heading is only, '•'■Enter 
Antony., Octavius., and Lepidus." The Same^ 
meaning at Rome, was supplied by Rowe. It is 
evident (especially from 491 and 492) that the scene 
is placed at Rome, although in point of fact the 
triumvirs held their meeting on a small island in the 
river Rhenus (now the Reno) near Bononia (-5o- 
logna), whei-e, Plutarch says, they remained three- 
days together. 

485. These many. — An archaic form for so many, 
this number. 

485. Their names are pricked. — See 351. 

489. Who is your sister's son., Mark Antony. — 
This is a mistake. The person meant is Lucius 
21 



322 Philological Commentary, [act iv. 

Caesar, who was Mark Antony's uncle, the brother 
of his mother. 

490. Look, zvith a spot I damn htm. — Note him 
as condemned, by a mark or stigma (called pricking 
his name in 485, and pricking him down in 488, and 
pricking him in 494). 

490. Fetch the will hither, and ive shall de- 
termine. — This is the reading of all the old copies, 
and is properly retained by Mr. Knight. In the 
Variorum edition we have (and without warning) 
-will substituted for shall. 

493. This is a slight unmeritable man. — So 
afterwards in 534, " Away, slight man ! " said by 
Brutus, in momentary anger, to Cassius. See 52 1. — 
Unmeritable should mean incapable of deserving. 

493. Meet to be sent on errands. — Errand is a 
Saxon word, cerend (perhaps from cer, or ar, before, 
whence also ere and early). It has no connection 
with errant, wandering (from the Latin erro, whence 
also err, and error, and erroneous). 

495. To groan and sweat under the business. — 
Business is commonly only a dissyllable with Shake- 
speare ; and it may be no more here upon the prin- 
ciple explained in the note on " She dreamt to-night 
she saw my statue " in 246. There are a good many 
more instances of lines concluding with business, in 
which either it is a trisyllable (although commonly 
only a dissyllable in the middle of a line) or the verse 
must be regarded as a hemistich, or truncated verse, 
of nine syllables. 

495. Either led or driven, etc. — The three last 

•Folios, and also Rowe, have '•'■ print the way." The 

we of this line, and the our and the we of the next, 

are all emphatic. There is the common irregularity 

of a single short superfluous syllable (the er oi either). ' 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 323 

495. And graze on commons. — In is the read- 
ing of all the old copies. [So Dyce, Hudson, and 
White.] On is the correction of Mr. Collier's MS. 
annotator. 

497. Store of provender. — Provender., which 
Johnson explains to mean " dry food for brutes," and 
which also appears in the forms provand and pro- 
vant, is immediately from the French provende, 
having the same signification, and derived probably 
from the Latin providere. 

497. And., in some taste. — It might seem at first 
that this phrase, as it may be said to be equivalent 
in effect to our common " in some sense," so is only 
another wording of the same conception or figure, 
what is called a sense in the one form being called a 
taste in the other. But, although taste is reckoned 
one of the senses, this would certainly be a wrong 
explanation. The expression " in some sense " has 
nothing to do with the powers of sensation or pei*- 
ception ; sense here is signification, meaning, import. 
Neither does taste stand for the sense of taste in the 
other expression. The taste which is here referred 
to is a taste in contradistinction to a more full enjoy- 
ment or participation, a taste merely. " In some 
taste " is another way of saying, not " in some sense," 
but " in some measure, or degree." 

497. On objects, arts., and imitations., etc. — This 
passage, as it stands in the Folios, with the sentence 
terminating at " imitations," has much perplexed the 
commentators ; and, indeed, may be said to have 
proved quite inexplicable, till a comma was substi- 
tuted for the full point by Mr. Knight, which slight 
change makes everything plain and easy. Antony's 
assertion is, that Lepidus feeds, not on objects, arts, 
and imitations generally, but on such of them as 



324 Philological Commentary, [act iv. 

are out of use and staled (or worn out : see 50) 
by other people, which, notwithstanding, begin his 
fashion (or with which his following the fashion 
begins.) [Theobald proposed " On abject orts and 
imitations," which Dyce adopts and defends in a long 
note. White, in Shakespeare^ s Scholar^ suggests 
" abject arts and imitations," but in his edition of the 
poet, wisely returns to the reading of the Folio as 
amended by Knight. Staunton has " abjects, orts, 
and imitations," and defines abjects as " things thrown 
away as worthless." The word occurs with that 
meaning in old English (see Bible Word-Book^ s. v.), 
but much more commonly it means a worthless, 
despicable person — the only sense recognized by 
Nares — as in Richard III. i. i: "We are the 
queen's abjects, and must obey." Compare Psalms 
XXXV. 15.] 

497. Listen great thiiigs. — Listen has now 
ceased to be used as an active verb. 

497. \_Are levying powers. — Power and powers^ 
in the sense of army, forces, are very common in old 
writers : — 

So soon as we had gathered us a power 
We dallied not. Hejwood, 2 Ed. IV. ii. 2. 

Lord Lovel was at hand with a great power of men. — 

Bacon, Hen. VII. p. 17. 

See also 2 Chron. xxxii. 9. For examples in Shake- 
speare see Mrs. Clarke. In the present play, com- 
pare 597, 668, and 727. Puissance is used in the 
same sense in old English. See an example in note 
on 303.] 

497. Our best friends made., and our best means 
stretched out. — This is the reading of the Second 
Folio. It seems to me, I confess, to be sufficiently 
in Shakespeare's manner. The First Folio has 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 325 

" Oui" best Friends made, our meanes stretcht," — 
which, at any rate, it is quite impossible to believe to 
be what he wrote. [Dyce and White follow the First 
Folio, but both consider the line a mutilated one.j 

497. And let us presently go sit zVz counsel^ etc. — 
The more ordinary phraseology would be " Let us 
sit in consultation how," or " Let us consult how." 
The word in the First Folio is " Councell," and 
most, if not all, modern editions have " sit in coun- 
cil." But see 262. 

498. And bayed about 'with many enemies. — See 
348 (for bayed), and 362 (for with). 

498. Millions of mischiefs. — This is the reading 
of all the old editions. Mr. Knight has " mischief," 
no doubt by an error of the press. In the Winter's 
Tale, iv. 2, however, we have, in a speech of the 
Clown, " A million of beating may come to a great 
matter." 

Scene IL The original heading here is '•'•Drum. 
Enter Brutus, Lucillius, and the Army. Titinius 
and Pindarus meete them." The modern editors 
after the name of Lucilius introduce that of Lucius. 
See the note on 520. 

501. What now, Lucilius? is Cassius near? — 
Hei*e the ius is dissyllabic in Lzicilius and monosyl- 
labic in Cassius. 

502. To do you salutation. — Another of the old 
applications of do which we have now lost. See 147. 
The stage direction about the Letter is modern. 

503. He greets me well. — The meaning seems 
to be, He salutes ine in a friendly manner. Yet 
this can hardly be regarded as a legitimate employ- 
ment of well. 

503. In his own change., etc. — The meaning 



326 Philological Commentary, [act iv. 

seems to be, either through a change that has taken 
place in his own feelings and conduct, or through 
the misconduct of his officers. 

503. Some worthy cause. — Some reasonable or 
sufficient cause, some cause of worth, value, or 
power to justify the wish. Our modern worth is 
the Saxon weorth, wzirth, or wyrth, connected with 
which are weorscipe, worship, and weorthian^ to 
hold in esteem or honor. But there may also per- 
haps be a connection with weorthan,, or ivurthan^ 
to become, or to be, the same word with the modern 
German werdeit^ and still in a single fragment re- 
maining in use among ourselves in the phrase woe 
worth, that is, woe be. [See Ezekiel xxx. 2.] If 
this be so, either what we call worth is that which 
anything emphatically is, or, when we say that a 
thing is, we are only saying that it is worth in a 
broad or vague sense, according to a common man- 
ner of forming a term of general out of one of par- 
ticular import. 

505. He is not doubted. — A word, etc. — Brutus 
here, it will be observed, makes two speeches ; first 
he addresses himself to Pindarus, then to Lucilius. 
Even if the prosody did not admonish us to the same 
effect, it would, in these circumstances, be better to 
print the passage as I have given it, with two hemi- 
stichs or broken lines. 

505. Let fne be resolved. — See 338. 

506. But not with such familiar instances. — 
The word still in use that most nearly expresses this 
obsolete sense of instances is, perhaps, assiduities. 
As instance should mean standing upon, so assiduity 
should mean sitting upon. Assidtiitas is used by 
Cicero ; instantia, I believe, is not found in the best 
age of the Latin tongue. The English word is em- 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 327 

ployed by Shakespeare in other senses besides this 
that are now obsolete. " To comfort you the more," 
says the Earl of Warwick to the King, in 2 Henry 

/kiii. I,— 

I have received 
A certain instance that Glendovsrer is dead, — 

that is, a certain assurance. Again, in Richard 
III. iii. 2, — 

Tell him his fears are shallow, without instance, — 

that is, apparently, without any fact to support or 
justify them. Again, in Hamlet^ iii. 2, we have — 

The instances that second marriage move 

Are base respects of thrift, but none of love, — 

that is, the inducements, as we should now say, are 
base considerations of thrift, or pecuniary advantage. 
We now use instance in something like its proper 
sense only in the phrase " at the instance of," and 
even there the notion of pressure or urgency is nearly 
lost ; the word is understood as meaning little, if 
anything, more than merely so much of application, 
request, or suggestion as the mere mention of what 
is wanted might carry with it. In another phrase 
in which it has come to be used, " in the first in- 
stance," it is not very obvious what its meaning really 
is, or how, at least, it has got the meaning which it 
appears to have. Do we, or can we, say " in the 
second, or third, instance"? By instance, as com- 
monly used, for a particular fact, we ought to under- 
stand a fact bearing upon the matter in hand ; and 
this seems to be still always kept in mind in the 
familiar expression " for instance." 

Shakespeare's use of the word may be further 
illustrated by the following passages: "They will 
scarcely believe this without trial : offer them in- 



328 Philological Commentary, [act iv. 

stances ; which shall bear no less likelihood than to 
see me at her chamber window ; hear me call Mar- 
garet, Hero ; hear Margaret term me Claudio ; " etc. 
{Much Ado About JVothhzg, ii. 2) ; — 

Instance ! O instance ! strong as Pluto's gates ; 
Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven : 
Instance ! O instance ! strong as heaven itself; 
The bonds of heaven are slipped, dissolved, and loosed. 

Trail, and Cress, v. 2. 

507. Like horses hot at hand. — That is, appar- 
ently, when held by the hand, or led. [Compare 
Henry VIII. .^ v. 2 (v. 3 in Globe Md.) : — 

those that tame wild horses 

Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle, 

But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and spur 'em, 

Till thej obey the manage.] 

Or rather, perhaps, when acted upon only by the 
rein. So in Harington's Ariosto^ vii. 67, Melyssa 
sa3's that she will try to make Rogero's griffith horse 
" gentle to the spur and hand." But has not " at 
hand " always meant, as it always does now, only 
near or hard by? That meaning will not do here. 
The connnentators afford us no light or help. Per- 
haps Shakespeare wrote " in hand." The two 
expressions ifi hand and at hand are commonly 
distinguished in the Plays as they are in our present 
usage ; and we also have on hand and at the hands 
of in the modern senses, as well as to bear in hand 
("to keep in expectation, to amuse with false pre- 
tences " — Naves') and at any hand (that is, in any 
case), which are now obsolete. In The Comedy of 
Errors^ ii. i, at hand., used by his mistress Adriana 
in the common sense, fui-nishes matter for the word- 
catching wit of Dromio of Ephesus after he has been 
beaten, as he thinks, by his master: ^^Adr. Say, 



sc. II.] Julius C^sar. 329 

is your tardy master now at hand ? Dro. E. Nay, 
he's at two hands with me, and that my two ears can 
witness." In Khig John^ v. 2, however, we have 
" hke a Hon fostered up at hand," that is, as we 
should now say, by hand. In another similar 
phrase, we may remark, at has now taken the place 
of the in or hito of a former age. We now say To 
march at the head of, and also To place at the head 
of, and we use in the head and into the head in 
quite other senses ; but here is the way in which 
Clarendon expresses himself: " They said . . . that 
there should be an army of thirty thousand men im- 
mediately transported into England with the Prince 
of Wales in the head of them " (^Uist., Book x.) ; 
" The King was only expected to be nearer England, 
how disguised soever, that he might quickly put 
himself into the head of the army, that would be 
ready to receive him " {Id., Book xiv.) ; " These 
cashiered officers . . . found so much encourage- 
ment, that, at a time appointed, they put themselves 
into the heads of their regiments, and marched with 
them into the field " {Id., Book xvi.) ; " That Lord 
[Fairfax] had called together ^me of his old dis- 
banded officers and soldiers, and many principal 
men of the country, and marched in the head of 
them into York " {Ibid.) ; " Upon that very day 
they [the Parliament] received a petition, which 
they had fomented, presented ... by a man noto- 
rious in those times, . . . Praise -God Barebone, 
in the head of a crowd of sectaries " {Ibid.) ; " He 
[the Chancellor] informed him [Admiral Montague] 
of Sir George Booth's being possessed of Chester, 
and in the head of an army " {Ibid.). 

507. They fall their crests. — This use onfall, 
as an active verb, is not common in Shakespeare ; 



330 Philological Commentary, [act iv. 

but it may be found in writers of considerably later 
date. 

508. Instead of the stage direction '-'•March with- 
in " at the end of this speech, the original text has 
"Z(9W March within " in the middle of 507. And 
instead of '''•Enter Cassius and Soldiers" it is there 
'"''Enter Cassius and his foivers.^^ 

512,513, 514. — The Within prefixed to these 
three speeches is the insertion of the modern editors. 
In the First Folio the three repetitions of the " Stand" 
arc on so many distinct lines, but all as if they formed 
part of the speech of Brutus. Mr. Collier has at 
514 the stage direction, '•''One after the other ^ and 
fainter." 

518. Cassius, be content. — That is, be continent ; 
contain, or restrain, yourself. [The phrase occurs 
also in the Bible {Judges xix. 6; 2 Kings v. 23, 
vi. 3 ; Job vi. 28) ; but the meaning there is " be 
pleased " or " let it please thee," as the Hebrew is 
translated in 2 Sam. vii. 29. See Bible Word- 
Book, s. V.J 

518. Speak your griefs softly. — See 129 and 

435- 

518. Nothing but love from us.' — From each of 

us to the other. 

518. Enlarge your griefs. — State them with all 
fulness of eloquent exposition ; as we still say En- 
large upo7i. See 129 and 435. Clarendon uses the 
verb to enlarge differently both from Shakespeare 
and from the modern language ; thus : " As soon 
as his lordship had finished his oration, which was 
I'eceived with marvellous acclamations, Mr. Pym 
enlarged himself, in a speech then printed, upon the 
several parts of the King's answer" {Hist.., Book 
vi.). 



sc. II.] Julius C-(Esar. . 331 

520. Lucius^ do you the like; etc. — The original 
text is, — 

Lucillius, do jou the like, and let no man 

Come to our tent, till we have done our Conference. 

Let Lucius and Titinius guard our doore. 

To cure the prosody in the first line, Steevens and 
other modern editors strike out the you. It is 
strange that no one should have been struck with 
the absurdity of such an association as Lucius and 
Titinius for the guarding of the door — an officer 
of i"ank and a servant boy — the boy, too, being 
named first. The function of Lucius was to carry 
messages. As Cassius sends his servant Pindarus 
with a message to his division of the force, Brutus 
sends his servant Lucius with a similar message to 
his division. Nothing can be clearer than that Lu- 
cilius in the first line is a misprint for Lticius^ and 
Lucius in the third a misprint for Lucilius. Or 
the error may have been in the copy ; and the inser- 
tion of the Let was probably an attempt of the 
printer, or editor, to save the prosody of that line, 
as the omission of the you is of the modern editors 
to save that of the other. The present restoration 
sets everything to rights. [White adopts Craik's 
emendation, but Collier and Dyce take no notice of 
it.] At the close of the conference we have Brutus, 
in 579, again addressing himself to Lucilius and 
Titinius, who had evidently kept together all the 
time it lasted. Lucius (who in the original text is 
commonly called the Boy') and Titinius are nowhere 
mentioned together. In the heading of Scene III., 
indeed, the modern editors have again '•'•Lucius and 
Titinius at some distance ; " but this is their own 
manufacture. All that we have in the old copies is, 
^'•Majiet Brutus and Cassius." See also 570. 



332 Philological Commentary, [act iv. 

Scene III. [Plutarch in his Life of Marcus 
Brutus (North's translation, 1579, p. 1071), says, 
" Therefore, before they fell in hand with any other 
matter, they went into a little chamber together, and 
bad every man avoyde, and did shut the dores to 
them. Then they beganne to powre out their com- 
plaints, one to the other, and grew hot and lowde, 
earnestly accusing one another, and at length fell 
both a weeping. Their friends, that were without 
the chamber, hearing them lowd within and angry 
betwene them selves, they were both amased, and 
affrayd also, lest it would grow to further matter."] 

521. [^Tbu have condemned and noted. — Com- 
pare North's Plutarch: "The next day after, 
Brutus, upon complaint of the Sardians, did con- 
demn and note Lucius Pella for a defamed person," 
etc.] 

521. Wherein my letters . . . ivere slighted off. 
— The printer of the First Folio, evidently mis- 
understanding the passage, gives us, — 

Wherein my Letters, praying on his side, 
Because I knew the man was slighted off. 

The Second Folio has, — 

Wherein my Letter, praying on his side, 
Because I knew the man, was slighted off. 

[White adopts this reading.] At a date consider- 
ably later than Shakespeare we have still slightedX 
over (for to treat or perform carelessly) . It is used ' 
by Dryden in the end of the seventeenth century, as 
it had been by Bacon in the beginning. The con- 
nection of the various modifications of the term 
slight is sufficiently obvious. They all involve the 
notion of quickly and easily escaping or being de- 
spatched and got rid of. 



sc. in.] Julius C^sar. 333 

523. That every nice offence^ etc. — Nice is the 
Saxon nesc or hnesc, tender, soft, gentle. [For a 
different etymology see the revised Webster. For 
nice in the sense of " trivial," compare " How nice 
the quarrel v\^as," Romeo and Juliet^ iii. i, and 
" The letter vv^as not nice," same Flay, v. 2. Mrs. 
Clarke will furnish other examples.] In modern 
English the word always implies smallness or petti- 
ness, though not always in a dispai-aging sense, but 
rather most usually in the contrary. So a pet^ 
literally something small, is the common name for 
anything that is loved and cherished. — For '•'•his 
comment " see 54. 

524. Let tne tell yoti^ Cassius, etc. — Here we 
have a line with the first syllable wanting, which 
may be regarded as the converse of those wanting 
only the last syllable noticed in the note on 246. 
So, lower down, in 540, we have another speech of 
Brutus commencing, with like abruptness, with a 
line which wants the two first syllables : " You say 
you are a better soldier." — For the true nature of 
the hemistich see the note on " Made in her concave 
shores" in 15. 

524. Are mtich condemned to have an itching 
palm. — To condemn to is now used only in the 
sense of sentencing to the endurance of. In the 
present passage the to introduces the cause, not the 
consequence, of the condemnation. " You are con- 
demned" is used as a stronger expression for you 
are said, you are alleged, you are charged. An 
itching palm is a covetous palm ; as we say an itch 
for praise, an itch for scribbling, etc., or as in the 
translation of the Bible we read, in 2 Tim. iv. 3, of 
the people " having itching ears " (being exactly 
after the original, xvrj^o'fjLSvoj rr^v dxo^v). 



334 Philological Commentary, [act iv. 

524. To sell and mart your offices. — To make 
merchandise, or matter of bargain and sale, of your 
appointments and commissions. Mart is held to be 
a contraction of market., which is connected with the 
Latin merx and mercor., and so with merchant^ 
mercantile, coJJimerce, etc. 

524. To undeservers. — We have lost both this 
substantive and the verb to disserve (to do an injury 
to), which Clarendon uses; though we still retain 
the adjective zmdeserving. 

528, 529. And bay the moon. . . . Brutus., bay 
not me. — In the First Folio we have " bay the 
moon," and " bait not me ; " in all the others, " bait 
the moon" and '■''bait not me." Theobald sug- 
gested '"'•bay the moon" and '"'• bay not me;" and 
this accords with the reading given by Mr. Collier's 
MS. annotator, who in 528 restores in the Second 
Folio the bay of the First, and in 529 corrects the 
bait of all the Folios into bay. [Dyce and White 
follow Theobald, but Hudson prefers the reading of 
the First Folio.] To bay the moon is to bark at the 
moon ; and bay not me would, of course, be equiva- 
lent to bark not, like an infuriated dog, at me. See 
348. To bait., again, from the French battre, might 
be understood to mean to attack with violence. So 
in Macbeth., v. 7, we have " to be baited with the 
rabble's curse." It is possible that there may have 
been some degree of confusion in the minds of our 
ancestors between bait and bay, and that both words, 
imperfectly conceived in their import and origin, 
were apt to call up a more or less distinct notion of 
encompassing or closing in. Perhaps something of 
this is what runs in Cassius's head when he subjoins, 
"You forget yourself, To hedge me in" — although 
Johnson interprets these words as meaning " to limit 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 335 

my authority by your direction or censure." The 
present passage may be compared with one in A 
Winter^ s Tale, ii. 3 : — 

Who late hath beat her husband, 
And now baits me. 

A third Anglicized form of battre, in addition to 
beat and bait, is probably bate, explained by Nares 
as " a term in falconry ; to flutter the wings as pre- 
paring for flight, particularly at the sight of prey." 
Thus Petruchio, in The Taming of the Shrew, iv. i, 
speaking of his wife, after observing that his " falcon 
now is sharp, and passing empty " (that is, very 
empty, or hungry), goes on to say that he has 
another way to man his haggard (that is, apparently, 
to reduce his wild hawk under subjection to man) : — 

That is, to watch her, as we watch those kites 
That bate, and beat, and will not be obedient. 

Nares quotes the following passage from a letter of 
Bacon's as beautifully exemplifying the true meaning 
of the word : " Wherein \yiz. in matters of business] 
I would to God that I were hooded, that I saw less ; 
or that I could perform more : for now I am like a 
hawk that bates, when I see occasion of service ; but 
cannot fly, because I am tied to another's fist." The 
letter, which was first printed by Rawley in the First 
Part of the Resuscitatio (1657), is without date, and 
is merely entitled "A Letter to Queen Elizabeth, 
upon the sending of a New-Year's Gift." 

529. / am a soldier, I. — It is impossible to be 
quite certain whether the second / here be the pro- 
noun or the adverb which we now write Ay. See 
the note on " I, as ^neas," in 54. 

529. To make conditions. — To arrange the terms 
on which offices should be conferred. 



33^ Philological Commentary, [act iv. 

530. Go to. — Johnson, in his Dictionary, ex- 
plains this expression as equivalent to " Come, come, 
take the right course " (meaning, contemptuously or 
sarcastically). He adds, that, besides being thus 
used as " a scornful exhortation," it is also some- 
times " a phrase of exhortation or encouragement ; " 
as in Gen. xi. 4, where the people, after the flood, 
are represented as saying, " Go to, let us build us a 
city and a tower," etc. But it must be understood 
to be used, again, in the scornful sense three verses 
lower down, where the Lord is made to say, " Go 
to, let us go down, and there confound their lan- 
guage," etc. 

533. Have mind upon your health. — Mind is 
here remembrance, and health is welfare, or safety, 
generally ; senses which are both now obsolete. 

534. Atuay^ slight man! — See 493 and 521. 
536. Hear tne^for I will speak. — The emphasis 

is not to be denied to the will here, although it 
stands in the place commonly stated to require an 
unaccented syllable. See 425, 435, and 612. 

538. Mtist I observe you ? — Pay you observance, 
or reverential attention. [Compare 2 Henry IV. 
iv. 2 : " For he is gracious, if he be observed," and 
" I shall observe him with all care and love." The 
word is used in the same sense in Mark vi. 20.] 

540. You say you are a better soldier. — See 524. 

540. I shall be glad to learn of abler m.en. — The 
old reading is " itoble men ; " abler is the correction 
of Mr. Collier's MS. annotator. Even if this were a 
mere conjecture, its claim to be accepted would be 
nearly irresistible. Noble here is altogether inap- 
propriate. [Dyce, Hudson, Staunton, and White 
retain " noble," which is by no means so bad as 
Craik makes it.] Cassius, as Mr. Collier remarks, 



sc. in.] Julius Cjesar. 337 

had said nothing about " noble men," whereas abler 
is the very expression that he had used (in 529) : — 

I am a soldier, I, 
Older in practice, abler than yourself 
To make conditions. 

550' "^ou have done that you shotcld be sorry 
for. — The emphasis, of course, is on shotcld. The 
common meaning of shall, as used by Cassius, is 
turned, in Brutus's quick and unsparing repHcation, 
into the secondary meaning oi should (ought to be). 
See 181. 

550. Which I respect not. — Which I heed not. 
Here respect has rather less force of meaning than it 
has now acquired ; whereas observe in 538 has more 
than it now conveys. Respect in Shakespeare means 
commonly no more than what we now call regard 
or view. Thus, in The Midsummer NighCs Dream., 
i. I, Lysander says of his aunt, " She respects me as 
her only son;" and, in ii. i, Helena says to De- 
metrius, " You, in my respect, are all the world." 
So, in The Merchant of Venice, v. i, when Portia, 
on hearing the music from the lighted house as she 
approaches Belmont at night in company with Ne- 
rissa, says, — 

Nothing is good, I see, without respect ; 
Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day, — 

she means merely that nothing is good without ref- 
erence t6 circumstances, or that it is only when it is 
in accordance with the place and the time that any 
good thing can be really or fully enjoyed. As she 
immediately subjoins, — 

How many things by season seasoned are 
To their right praise and true perfection ! 

So afterwards Nerissa to Gratiano : " You should 

23 



338 Philological Commentary, [act iv. 

have been respective^ and have kept it" (the ring) — 
that is, you should have been mindful (of your 
promise or oath). 

550. And drop my blood. — Expend my blood in 
drops. 

550. Than to wring. — Although had rather 
(see 54 and 57), being regarded as of the nature of 
an auxiliary verb, does not in modern English take 
a to with the verb that follows it (see i), it does so 
here in viilue of being equivalent in sense to would 
or should -prefer. 

550. By any indirection. — Indirectness, as we 
should now say. 

550. To lock such rascal counters. — As to lock. 
See 407. Rascal means despicable. It is a Saxon 
word, properly signifying a lean, worthless deer. 

550. Be ready, gods., etc. — I cannot think that 
Mr. Collier has improved this passage by removing 
the comma which we find in the old copies at the I 
end of the first line, and so connecting the words ' 
" with all your thunderbolts," not with " Be ready," 
but with " Dash him to pieces." [On the whole, 1 
Collier's reading, which is adopted by White, seems 7 
the preferable one.] 

550. Dash him to pieces. — This is probably to be 
understood as the infinitive (governed by the pre- 
ceding verb be ready) with the customary to omitted. 
See I. 

553. Brutus hath rived my heart. — See 107. 

558. A flatterer's would not., though they do 
appear. — This is the I'eading of all the old copies. 
Mr. Collier's MS. annotator gives " did appeal*." 
[But Collier does not adopt the emendation.] 

559. Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius. — In 
this line and the next we have Cassius used first as 



sc. III.] Julius C^r.AR. 339 

a trisyllable and immediately after as a diss3'llable. 
[Compare 501.] 

559- ^c'r Cassitis is aweary of the ivorld. — 
Whatever may be its origin or proper meaning, 
many words were in the habit of occasionally taking 
a as a prefix in the earliest period of the language. 
Thence we have our modern English arise^ arouse^ 
abide, await, awake, aweary, etc. Some of the 
words which are thus lengthened, however, do not 
appear to have existed in the Saxon ; while, on the 
other hand, many ancient forms of this kind are now 
lost. More or less of additional expressiveness seems 
usually to be given by this prefix, in the case at 
least of such words as can be said to have in them 
anything of an emotional character. Shakespeare 
has used the present word in another of his most 
pathetic lines — Macbeth's "I 'gin to be aweary of 
the sun." The a here is the same element that we 
have in the " Tom's a-cold" of Lear, iii. 4, and iv. 
I, and also with the an that we have in the " When 
I was ait-hungered" of the New Testament, and 
Shakespeare's " They said they were an-hungry " 
{Coriol. i. 4), [See 65.] 

559. [ Checked like a bondman. — Compare 2 
Henry IV. i. 2 : "I have checked him for it, and 
the young lion repents," So in Udall's Erasmus, 
Mark XV. 32 : " And they that were crucified with 
hym, checked hym also." Check is used in this 
sense of rebuke, reprove, in the heading of chap. v. 
of Exodus^ 

559. Conned by rote. — The Saxon connan, or 
cunnan, signifying to know, and also to be able, — 
its probable modification cunnian^ to inquire, — and 
cen?ian, to beget or bring forth, appear to have all 
come to be confounded in the breaking up of the old 



340 Philological Commentary, [act iv. 

form of the language, and then to have given rise to 
our modern ken^ and ca??, and con^ and cunnings 
with meanings not at all corresponding to those of 
the terms with which they severally stand in phonetic 
connection. Can is now used only as an auxiliary 
verb with the sense of to be able, though formerly it 
was sometimes employed with the same sense as a 
common verb. "In evil," says Bacon, in his nth 
Essay (Of Great Place), "the best condition is not 
to will ; the second, not to can." Ken is still in use 
both as a verb and as a substantive. The verb Nares 
interprets as meaning to see, the substantive as mean- 
ing sight ; and he adds, " These words, though not 
current in common usage, have been so preserved in 
poetic language that they cannot properly be called 
obsolete. Instances are numerous in writers of very 
modern date. ... In Scotland these words are still 
in full currency." But the meaning of to ke7i in the 
Scottish dialect is not to see, but to know. And 
formerly it had also in English the one meaning as 
well as the other, as may be seen both in Spenser 
and in Shakespeare. The case is similar to that of 
the Greek £'/(5w (o/^a) and Si^sw. Cu7ining^ again, in- 
stead of being the wisdom resulting from investiga- 
tion and experience, or the skill acquired by practice, 
as in the earlier states of the language, has now come 
to be understood as involving always at least some- 
thing concealed and mysterious, if not something of 
absolute deceit or falsehood. 

As for con its common meaning seems to be, not 
to know, but to get b}' heart, that is, to acquire a 
knowledge of in the most complete manner possible. 
And to con by rote is to commit to memoi'y by an 
operation of mind similar to the turning of a wheel 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 341 

{I'ota)^ or by frequent repetition. Rote is the same 
word with routine. 

It is more difficult to explain the expression to con 
thanks^ which is of frequent occurrence in our old 
writers, and is several times used by Shakespeare. 
Nares explains it as meaning to study expressions 
of gratitude. But it really seems, in most instances 
at least, to signify no more than to give or return 
thanks. See a note on Gammer Gurton's Needle 
in Collier's edition of Dodsley's Old Plays, ii. 30. 
Con in the present passage may perhaps mean to 
utter or repeat ; such a sense might come not unnat- 
urally out of the common use of the word in the 
sense of to get by heart. It is remai-kable that in 
German also they say Dank wissen (literally to 
know thanks) for to give thanks. [ Con thanks is 
precisely like the Latin scire gratias and the French 
savoir gre. There is no difficulty in the case.] 

Our common know is not from any of the Saxon 
verbs above enumerated, but is the modernized form 
of cjiawan, which- may or may not be related to all 
or to some of them. 

Corresponding to cennati and connan, it may 
finall}^ be added, we have the modern German ken- 
ne?z, to know, and konnen, to be able or to know. 
But, whatever may be the case with the German 
Konig (a king), it is impossible to admit that our 
English king, the representative of the Saxon cytig, 
cyncg, or cyning, can have anything to do with 
either cennan or connan. It is of quite another 
family, that of which the head is cyn, nation, off- 
spring, whence our present kin, and kindred, and 
kind (both the substantive and the adjective). 

559' Dearer than Plutus' mine. — Dear must 
here be understood, not in the derived sense of be- 



342 Philological Commentary, [act iv. 

loved, but in its literal sense of precious or of value. 
See 348. It is '■'•Pluto's mine" in all the Folios, and 
also in Rowe ; nor does it appear that the mistake is 
corrected by Mr. Collier's MS, annotator, although 
it is, of course, in Mr. Collier's regulated text. 

559. If that thou beest a Roman. — Our modern 
substantive verb, as it is called, is made up of frag- 
ments of several verbs, of which, at the least, am, 
was, and be are distinguishable, even if we hold is, 
as well as are and art, to belong to the same root 
with am (upon this point see Latham's Eng. La7ig. 
5th edit. 612). In the Saxon we have eom (some- 
times ani), waes (with waere and ivaeron, and 
zuesafz, and geiveseii), beo (with bist or byst, bebdh, 
beon, etc.), eart (or eardJi), is (or ys) ; and also.yy, 
seo, sig, synd^ and syndon (related to the Latin sum,, 
stmt, sim, sis, etc.), of which forms there is no trace 
in our existing English. On the other hand, there 
is no representative in the written Saxon of our mod- 
ern plural are. Beest, which we have here, is not 
to be confounded with the subjunctive be; it is bist, 
byst, the 2d pers. sing. pres. indie, of beon, to be. 
It is now obsolete, but is also used by Milton in a 
famous passage : " If thou beest he ; but oh how 
fallen ! how changed," etc. P. L. i. 84. 

560. Dishonor shall be htimour. — See 205. — 
Any indignity you offer shall be regarded as a mere 
caprice of the moment. Humour here probably 
means nearly the same thing as in Cassius's " that 
rash humour which my mother gave me " in 567. 
The word had scarcely acquired in Shakespeare's 
age the sense in which it is now commonly used as 
a name for a certain mental faculty or quality ; 
though its companion ivit had already, as we have 
seen, come to be so employed. See 435. But what 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 343 

if the true reading should be " dishonor shall be 
honor?" [White "strongly suspects" that Shake- 
speare wrote " honor."] 

560. O Cassius^ you are yoked with a lamb. — 
Pope prints, on conjecture, " with a 7)1 an ; " and " a 
lamb" at any rate, can hardly be right. 

561. Blood ill-temfered. — We have now lost the 
power of characterizing the blood as ill-tempered 
(except in imitation of the antique), although we 
might perhaps speak of it as ill-attempered. The 
epithet ill-tempered^ now only applied to the sentient 
individual, and with reference rather to the actual 
habit of the mind or nature than to that of which it 
is supposed to be the result, was formerly employed, 
in accordance with its proper etymological import, 
to characterize anything the various ingredients of 
which were not so mixed as duly to qualify each 
other. 

567. Have not you love enough to bear with me ? 
— This is the reading of all the old copies, and is 
that adopted by Mr. Knight. [So Dyce and White.] 
Both the Variorum text, which is generally followed, 
and also Mr. Collier in his regulated text, give us 
" Have you not." 

568. 7'es^ Cassius ; and from henceforth. — All 
the irregularity that we have in this line is the slight 
and common one of a superfluous short syllable (the 
ius of Cassius). Steevens, in his dislike to even this 
much of freedom of versification, and his precise 
grammatical spirit, would strike out the from., as 
redundant in respect both of the sense and of the 
measure. 

568. He'll think your mother chides. — To chide 
is the Saxon cidan^ to strive, to contend. It is now 
scarcely in use except as an active verb with the sense 



344 Philological Commentary, [act iv. 

of to reprove with sharpness ; but it was formerly 
used also absolutely or intransitively, as here, for to 
employ chiding or angry expressions. Shakespeare 
has both to chide and to chide at. 

Instead of the stage direction '•''Noise within" the 
original edition has '•'■Enter a Poet." 

569. Poet [within']. — The within is inserted here 
and before the next two speeches by the modern 
editors. — The present incident (as well as the hint 
of the preceding great scene) is taken from Plutarch's 
Life of Brutus. The intruder, however, is not a Poet 
in Plutarch, but one Marcus Favonius, who affected 
to be a follower of Cato, and to pass for a Cynic 
philosopher. [Plutarch adds {North's trans., i579» 
p. 1071, as quoted by Collier), " Cassius fel a 
laughing at him ; but Brutus thrust him out of the 
chamber, and called him dogge and counterfeate 
cynick. Howbeit, his comming in brake their strife 
at that time, and so they left eche other."] There 
was probably no other authority than the Prompter's 
book for designating him a Poet. 

570. JLucil. [within] . Tou shall not come to them. 
— In the Variorum, and the other modern editions, 
although they commonly make no distinction between 
the abbreviation for Lticilius and that for Lucius^ 
this speech must be understood to be assigned to 
Lucius, whose presence alone is noted by them in 
the heading of the scene. But in the old text the 
speaker is distinctly marked Lucil. This is a con- 
clusive confirmation, if any were wanting, of the 
restoration in 520. [White takes the same view of 
it.] How is it that the modern editors have one and 
all of them omitted to acknowledge the universal 
deviation here from the authority which they all 
profess to follow ? Not even Jennens notices it. 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 345 

573- For I have see^i more years., I'm sure., than 
ye. — Plutarch makes Favonius exclaim, in the 
words of Nestor in the First Book of the Iliad, — 

'^AAd nldeaff • cijucpij) d^ vecmiQCi) iaxbv i/neTo, — 

which North translates, — 

My Lords, I pray you hearken both to me ; 
For I have seen inore years than such ye three. 

But this last line can hardly be correctly printed. — 
The Poet's quotation, it may be noted, is almost a 
repetition of what Antony has said to Octavius 
in 495. 

574. JIa, ha; how vilely doth this Cynic rhyme! 
— The form of the word in all the Folios is vildely., 
or vildly ; and that is the form which it generally, 
if not always, has in Shakespeare. The modern 
editors, however, have universally substituted the 
form now in use, as with then (for than), and (for 
an)., and other words similarly circumstanced. 

577. /'// know his humour when he knows his 
time. — In this line we have what the rule as com- 
monly laid down would make to be necessarily a short 
or unaccented syllable carrying a strong emphasis no 
fewer than four times : /// — his — he — his. 

577. With these jiggi7ig fools. — " That is," Ma- 
lone notes, " with these %\Viy poets. A. Jig signified, 
' in our author's time, a metrical composition, as well 
as a dance." Capell had ^ro^osed Jingling. 

577. Companiott, hetzce ! — The term companion 
was formerly used contemptuously, in the same way 
in which we still use its synonyme fellow. The 
notion originally involved in companionship, or ac- 
companiment, would appear to have been rather that 
of inferiority than of equality. A companion (or 
comes) was an attendant. The Comites of the im- 



346 Philological Commentary, [act iv. 

perial court, whence our modern Counts or Earls, 
and other nobility, were certainly not regarded as 
being the equals of the Emperor, any more than a 
Companion to a lady is now looked upon as the 
equal of her mistress. We have our r^o^oxxx fellow 
from the Saxon y^/aw; companion (with company) 
immediately from the French compagtion and the 
Italian compagno^ which have been variously de- 
duced from com-panis, com-paga?ztcs^ combino (Low 
Latin, from bimcs)^ com-beiino (one of two or more 
riders in the same benna, or cart), etc. [It is pretty 
certainly from the Low Latin co7npa?tium^ com- 
pounded of con and panis. Wedgwood compares 
the Old High German gi-mazo, or gi-leip^ board- 
fellow, from mazo^ meat, or leip^ bread ; and the 
Go\hic gaklaiba^ fellow-disciple {jfokn xi. 16), from 
hlaibs^ bread.] We have an instance of the use of 
Companion in the same sense in which we still 
commonly employ felloiv^ even in so late a work as 
Smollett's Roderick Random^ published in 1748: 
" The young ladies, who thought themselves too 
much concerned to contain themselves any longer, 
set up their throats all together against my protector. 
' Scurvy companion ! Saucy tarpaulin ! Rude im- 
pertinent fellow ! Did he think to prescribe to 
grandpapa ! ' " Vol. I. ch. 3. In considering this 
meaning of the terms compa?iion and felloiv., we 
may also remember the proverb which tells us that 
" Familiarity breeds Contempt." 

Neither the entry nor the exit of Lucilius and 
Titinius is noticed in the old copies. 

579. Lucilitcs and Titinius^ bid the commanders. 
— The only irregularity in the prosody of this line is 
the common one of the one superfluous short syllable, 
the ius of Titinius. 



sc. in.] Julius C^sar. 347 

580. Im?nediately to us^ etc. — If this, as may be 
the case, is to form a complete line with the words 
of Brutus that follow, two of the six syllables must be 
regarded as superabundant. But there might per- 
haps be a question as to the accentuation of the tis. 

588. Upon ivhat sickfzessP — That is, after or in 
consequence of what sickness. It is the same use of 
upon which we have in 457, and which is still fa- 
miliar to us ii1*such phrases as " upon this," " upon 
that," " upon his return," etc., though we no longer 
speak of a person as dying tipon a particular sick- 
ness or disease. 

589. Itnpatient of my absence^ etc. — This speech 
is throughout a striking exemplification of the ten- 
dency of strong emotion to break through the logical 
forms of grammar, and of how possible it is for 
language to be perfectly intelligible and highly ex- 
pressive, sometimes, with the grammar in a more or 
less chaotic or uncertain state. It does not matter 
much whether we take grief to be a nominative, or 
a second genitive governed by impaiient. In prin- 
ciple, though not perhaps according to rule and 
established usage, " Octavius with Mark Antony" 
is as much entitled to a plural verb as " Octavius 
aftd Mark Antony." Tidings^ which is a frequent 
word with Shakespeare, is commonly used by him 
as a plural noun ; in .this same Play we have after- 
wards '^ these tidings" in 728; but there are other 
instances besides the present in which it is treated 
as singulai". It is remarkable that we should have 
exactly the same state of things in the case of the 
almost synonymous term nexvs (the final s of w^hich, 
however, has been sometimes attempted to be ac- 
counted for as a remnant of -ess or -ness^ though 
its exact correspondence in form with the French 



348 Philological Commentary, [act iv. 

nouvelles, of the same signification, would seem con- 
clusively enough to indicate what it really is). At 
any rate tiding and new (as a substantive) are both 
alike unknown to the language. 

589. She fell distract. — In Shakespeare's day 
the language possessed the three forms distracted, 
distract, and distraught ; he uses them all. We 
have now only the first. [See on 252.] 

592. The original stage direction heire is, '-''Enter 
Boywith Wine and Tapers'^ The second '•'•Dri?iks" 
Sit the end of 594 is modern ; and the '■'■Reenter Ti- 
tinius" etc., is '■'■Enter" in the original. 

595. And call in question. — Here we have prob- 
ably rather a figurative expression of the poet than a 
common idiom of his time. Then as well as now, 
we may suppose, it was not things, but only persons, 
that were spoken of in ordinary language as called 
in question. 

597. Bending their expedition. — Rather what 
we should now call their march (or movement^ — 
though perhaps implying that they were pressing 
on — than their expedition (or enterprise). 

598. Myself have letters. — We have now lost 
the right of using such forms as either myself or 
hifnself as sufficient nominatives, though they still 
remain perfectly unobjectionable accusatives. We 
can say " I blame myself," and " I saw himself; " 
but it must be "I myself blame him," and "He 
himself saw it." Here, as everywhere else, in the 
oi-iginal text the myself is in two words, " My selfe." 
And tenour in all the Folios, and also in both Rowe's 
edition and Pope's, is tenure, a form of the word 
which we now reserve for another sense. 

600. That by proscj'i'ption, and bills of outlawry. 
— The word outlawry taking the accent on the first 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 349 

syllable, this line will be most naturally read by 
being regarded as characterized by the common 
peculiarity of a supernumerary short syllable — the 
tio7i or the and — to be disposed of, as usual, by the 
two being rapidly enunciated as one. It will in this 
way be exactly of the same prosody with another 
that we have presently : " Struck Caesar on the 
neck. — O you flatterers" (689). It might, indeed, 
be reduced to perfect regularity by the Hon being 
distributed into a dissyllable, — ti-on^ — in which case 
the pi'osody would be completed at out^ and the two 
following unaccented syllables would count for noth- 
ing (or be what is called hypercatalectic), unless, 
indeed, any one should insist upon taking them for 
an additional foot, and so holding tlie verse to be an 
Alexandrine. But taste and probability alike protest 
against either of these ways of managing the matter. 
(See what is said in regard to the dissyllabication of 
the tion or sion by Shakespeare in the note on 246 : 
She dreajnt to-night she saw my statue^ Na}', even 
the running together of the tio?i and the and is not 
necessary, nor the way that would be taken by a 
good reader ; that is not how the line would be read, 
but only how it might be scanned : in reading it, the 
atid would be rather combined with the bills^ and a 
short pause would, in fact, be made after the tion^ 
as the pointing and the sense require. So entirely 
unfounded is the notion that a pause, of whatever 
length, occurring in the course of a verse can ever 
have anything of the prosodical effect of a word 
or syllable. 

603. Cicero is dead. — In the original printed 
text these words are run into one line with " and by 
that order of proscription." The text of the Vario- 
rum edition presents the same arrangement, with 



350 Philological Commentary, [act iv. 

the addition of Ay as a prefix to the whole. " For 
the insertion of the affirmative adverb, to complete 
the verse," says Steevens in a note, " I am answera- 
ble." Accoi'ding to Jennens, however, this addition 
was also made by Capell. In any case, it is plain 
that, if we receive the Ay^ we must make two lines, 
the first ending with the word dead. But we are not 
entitled to exact or to expect a perfect observance 
of the punctilios of regular pi'osody in such brief 
expressions of strong emotion as the dialogue is here 
broken up into. What do the followers of Steevens 
profess to be able to make, in the way of prosody, 
of the very next utterance that we have from Bru- 
tus, — the "No, Messala" of 604? The best thing 
we can do is to regard Cassius's "Cicero one?" 
and Messala's responsive " Cicero is dead" either as 
hemistichs (the one the commencement, the other 
the conclusion, of a line), or, if that view be pre- 
ferred, as having no distinct or precise prosodical 
character whatever. Every sense of harmony and 
propriety, however, revolts against running " Cicero 
is dead " into the same line with " And by that 
order," etc. [Collier. Dyce, Hudson, and White, all 
omit " Ay," and arrange the lines as here.] 

612. With meditating' that she itiust die once. — 
For this use oi with see 362. Once has here the 
same meaning which it has in such common forms 
of expression as " Once, when I was in London," 
"Once upon a time," etc. — that is to say, it means 
once without, as in other cases, restriction to that 
particular number. Steevens, correctly enough, in- 
terprets it as equivalent to " at some time or other ; " 
and quotes in illustration, from The Me7'ry Wives 
of Windsor., iii. 4, "I pray thee, once to-night Give 
my sweet Nan this ring." [Compare Jeremiah xiii. 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 351 

27.] The prosody of the line is the same that has 
been noted in 425, 435, and 536. 

614. I have as ?mich of this in art as you ^ etc. — 
In^art Malone interprets to mean " in theory." It 
rather signifies by acquired knowledge, or learn- 
ing, as distinguished from natural disposition. The 
passage is one of the many in our old poets, more 
especially Shakespeare and Spenser, running upon 
the relation between nature and art. 

615. Well^ to our work alive. — This must mean, 
apparently, let us proceed to our living business, to 
that which concerns the living, not the dead. The 
commentators say nothing, though the expression is 
certainly one that needs explanation. 

618. This it is. — "The overflow of the metre," 
Steevens observes, " and the disagreeable clash of it 
is with ' Tis at the beginning of the next line, are 
almost proofs that our author only wrote, with a 
common ellipsis, This." He may be right. The 
expression " This it is " sounds awkward otherwise, 
as well as prosodically ; and the superfluous, or 
rather encumbering it is would be accounted for by 
supposing the commencement of the following line 
to have been first so written and then altered to ' Tis. 

6ig. Good reasons must, of force. — We scarcely 
now say of force (for of necessity, or necessarily) ; 
although f 67 force continues to be sometimes still 
employed in poetry. It may even be doubted if this 
be Milton's meaning in 

our conqueror (whom I now 

Of force believe almightj^, since no less 
Than such could have o'erpowered such force as ours). 

P. L. i. 145. 

619. The enemy., marching along by them,. — 
This line, with the two weak syllables in the last 



352 Philological Commentary, [act iv. 

places of two successive feet (the second and third) 
might seem at first to be of the same kind with the 
one noted in 600. But the important distinction is, 
that the first of the two weak syHables here, th^ -y 
of enemy^ would in any circumstances be entitled to 
occupy the place it does in our heroic verse, in virtue 
of the principle that in English prosody every syllable 
of a polysyllabic word acquires the privilege or char- 
acter of a strong syllable when it is as far removed 
from the accented syllable of the word as the nature 
of the verse requires. See Prolegomena^ Sect. vi. 
The dissonance here, accordingly, is very slight in 
comparison with what we have in 600. — For "Along 
by them " see 300. 

619. By them shall make a fuller nutnber tip. — 
For this use of shall see the note on Ccesar should 
be a beast in 238. — The " along by them " followed 
by the " by them " is an artifice of expression, which 
may be compared with the " by Caesar and by you " 
of 344. 

619. Come on refreshed^ 7iexv-hearted^ and en- 
cotiraged. — " New-heailed " is the correction of 
Mr. Collier's MS. annotator ; the old reading is new- 
added^ which is not English or sense, and the only 
meaning that can be forced out of which, besides, 
gives us merely a repetition of what has been already 
said in the preceding line, a repetition which is not 
only unnecessary, but would be introduced in the 
most unnatural way and place possible ; whereas 
new-hearted is the very sort of word that one would 
expect to find where it stands, in association with 
refreshed and encouraged. [Staunton and White 
have " new-added ; " Hudson, " new-aided," which 
was independently suggested by Dyce and Singer, 



sc. in.] Julius Cjesar. 353 

and which, if any change is made, seems the most 

plausible one.] 

619. From which advantage shall we cut him 

off. — Shakespeare perhaps wrote we shall. 
621. Under your pardon. — See 357- 
621 . We, at the height, etc. — Being at the height, 

are in consequence ready to decline — as the tide 

begins to recede as soon as it has attained the point 

of full flood. 

621. 0?nitted. — The full resolution will be — 
which tide being omitted to be taken at the flood. 

622. Thetz, with your will, etc. — In the original 
edition " We'll along" is made part of the first line. 
Mr. Collier prints, it does not appear on what, or 
whether on any, authority, " We will along," as had 
been done on conjecture by Rowe, Pope, and others. 
[So Hudson and White. Dyce has " We'll."] The 
"We'll along" gives us merely the very common 
slight irregularity of a single superabundant sylla- 
ble. — " With your will " is equivalent to With your 
consent; "We'll along" to We will onward. But 
the passage is probably corrupt. 

. 623. The deef of night is crept. — See 373. 

623. Which we will 7iiggard. — Niggard is com- 
mon both as a substantive and as an adjective ; but 
this is probably the only passage in the language in 
which it is employed as a verb. Its obvious meaning 
is, as Johnson gives it in his Dictionary, " to stint, to 
supply sparingly." [See ow fathered, 213.] 

623. There is no more to say. — There is no more 
for us to say. So, " I have work to do," " He has a 
house to let," etc. In Ireland it is thought more 
correct to announce a house as to be let; but that 
would rather mean that it is going to be let. [Com- 
pare Marsh, Lectures, First Series, p. 652.] 
23 



354 Philological Commentary, [act iv. 

624. Early to-morrow willive rise^ and hence. — 
It might almost be said that the adverb hence is here 
turned into a verb ; it is construed exactly as rise 
is: "Will we rise," — " will we hence." So, both 
with hence and home^ in the opening line of the 
Play:- 

Hence! home, you idle creatures. 

625. Lucius., my gown., etc. — The best way of 
treating the commencement of this speech of Brutus 
is to regard the words addressed to Lucius as one 
hemistich and "Farewell, good Messala " as another. 
There are, in fact, two speeches. It is the same case 
that we have in 505. — In the old editions the stage 
directions are, after 624, '•'' Enter Lucius" and then, 
again, after 626, '•''Enter Lucius with the gown." 
After 631 there is merely '•'' Exeunt." 

633. Poor knave., I blajfze thee not ; thou art 
overwatched. — For knave see 646. — O erwatched., 
or overwatched., is used in this sense, of worn out 
with watching, by other old writers as well as by 
Shakespeare, however irreconcilable such an appli- 
cation of it may be with the meaning of the verb to 
watch. We have it again in Lear., ii. 2 : — 

All weary and o'erwatched, 
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold 
This shameful lodging. 

633. Sofjie other of my m.en. — By some other 
we should now mean some of a different sort. For 
some more we say some others. But, although other 
thus used as a substantive, with the plural of the 
ordinai-y form, is older than the time of Shakespeare, 
I do not recollect that he anywhere has others. Nor 
does it occur, I believe, even in Clarendon. On the 
other hand, it is frequent in Milton. [See 78.] 

634. Varro and Claudius I — In the old copies it 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 355 

is " Varrzis and Clazidio" both in the speech and 
in the stage direction that follows. 

636. I pray you, Sirs. — Common as the word 
Sir still is, we have nearly lost the form Sirs. It 
survives, however, in the Scottish dialect, with the 
pronunciation of Sirce, as the usual address to a 
number of persons, much as Masters was formerly 
in English [see 401, 407], only that it is applied to 
women as well as to men. [Compare Acts vii. 26, 
xiv. 15, xvi. 30, etc. Mrs. Clarke does not give 
Sirs, but it occurs in Titus Andronicus, iii. i.; i 
Henry IV., ii. 2 and 4, etc.] 

638. Servants lie down. — This stage direction is 
modern. 

640. Canst thou hold zip, etc. — This and the 
next line are given in the Second Folio in the fol- 
lowing blundering fashion, the result, no doubt, of an 
accidental displacement of the types : — 

Canst thou hold up thy instrument a straine or two. 
And touch thy heavy eyes a-while. 

The transposition is corrected by Mr. Collier's MS. 
annotator. 

644. / knoiv young bloods look. — See 56. 

646. It was well do7ie. — So in the old copies ; 
but the Varioru7n edition has " It is" in which it has 
been followed by other modern editors, though not 
by either Mr. Knight or Mr. Collier. [Dyce and 
White have " was ; " Hudson has " is."] 

646. \Thy leaden viace. — Compare Spenser, 
^. ^. i. 4. 44 : — 

But whenas Morpheus had with leaden mace 
Arrested all that courtly company, — ] 

646. Gentle k?tave, good night. — Knave, from 
the Saxon cnafa, or cnapa, having meant originally 
only a boy, and meaning now only a rogue, was in 



356 Philological Commentary, [act iv. 



Shakespeare's time in current use with either signifi 
cation. It was in its state of transition from the one 
to the other, and consequently of fluctuation between 
the two. The German Knabe still retains the origi- 
nal sense. 

646. I will not do thee so much wrong" to wake 
thee. — See 407. 

The stage direction '■'■He sits down " is modern. 

646. It comes tifon vie. — It advances upon me. 

646. Speak to 7ne what thou art. — We scarcely 
now use speak thus, for to announce or declare 
generally. 

647, 648. Thy evil spirit., Brutus., etc. — It is 
absurd to attempt, as the modern editors do, to make 
a complete verse out of these two speeches. It can- 
not be supposed that Brutus laid his emphasis on 
thoti. The regularities of prosody are of necessity 
neglected in such brief utterances, amounting in 
some cases to mere ejaculations or little more, as 
make up the greater part of the reijiainder of this 
scene. 

650. Well; then I shall see thee again? — So the 
words stand in the old copies. Nothing whatever 
is gained by printing the words in two lines, the first 
consisting only of the word Well., as is done by the 
generality of the modern editors. [Not by Collier, 
Hudson, or White.] 

651. Ghost vanishes. — This stage direction is 
not in the old editions. Steevens has objected that 
the apparition could not be at once the shade of 
Caesar and the evil geniics of Brutus. Shakespeai*e's 
expression is the evil spirit of Brutus, by which 
apparently is meant nothing more than a super- 
natural visitant of evil omen. At any rate, the pres- 
ent apparition is afterwards, in 773, distinctly stated 



\ 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 357 

by Brutus himself to have been the ghost of the 
murdered Dictator : — 

The ghost of Caesar hath appeared to me 
Two several times bj night : at Sardis, once. 

So, also, in A?itony and Cleopatra^ ii. 6 : — 

Since Julius Caesar, 
Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted. 

Perhaps we might also refer to 743 : — 

O Julius Caesar, thou art mighty jet ! 
Thy spirit walks abroad. 

And to " Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge," in 362. 
It may be well to append the two accounts of the 
incident given by Plutaixh, as translated by North. 
In the Life of Brutus the apparition is described 
merely as " a wonderful strange and monstruous 
shape of a body," and the narrative proceeds : " Bru- 
tus boldly asked what he was, a god or a man, and 
what cause brought him thither. The spirit an- 
swered him, I am thy evil spirit, Brutus ; and thou 
shalt see me by the city of Philippi. Brutus, being 
no otherwise afraid, replied again unto it. Well, 
then, I shall see thee again. The spirit presently 
vanished away ; and Brutus called his men unto him, 
who told him that they heard no noise nor saw any- 
thing at all." In the Life of Caesar the account is as 
follows : " Above all, the ghost that appeared unto 
Brutus showed plainly that the gods were offended 
with the murder of Caesar. The vision was thus. 
Brutus, being ready to pass over his army from the 
city of Abydos to the other coast lying directly 
against it, slept every night (as his manner was) 
in his tent, and, being yet awake, thinking of his 
affairs, ... he thought he heard a noise at his tent 
door, and, looking toward the light of the lamp that 



358 Philological Commentary, [act iv. 



waxed very dim, he saw a horrible vision of a man, 
of a wonderful greatness and dreadful look, which at 
the first made him marvellously afraid. But when 
he saw that it did him no hurt, but stood at his bed- 
side and said nothing, at length he asked him what 
he was. The image answered him, I am thy ill 
angel, Brutus, and thou shalt see me by the city of 
Philippi. Then Brutus replied again, and said, 
Well, I shall see thee then. Therewithal the spirit 
presently vanished from him." 

It is evident that Shakespeare had both passages 
in his recollection, though the present scene is chiefly 
founded upon the first. Plutarch, however, it will 
be observed, nowhere makes the apparition' to have 
been the ghost of Csesar. 

652. IV/iy, I -will see thee. — This is an addition 
by Shakespeare to the dialogue as given by Plutarch 
in both lives. And even Plutarch's simple affirma- 
tive I shall see thee appears to be converted into an 
interrogation in 650. It is remarkable that in our 
next English Plutarch, which passes as having been 
superintended by Dryden, we have " I will see thee " 
in both lives. The Greek is, in both passages, 
merely "Ovj^ojxai (I shall see thee). 

652. Boy I Liicitisl — Varrol Claudius I — Here 
again, as in 634, all the Folios, in this and the next 
line, have Varrus and Claudio. So also in 660. 

660. Sleep again., Lucius., etc. — It is hardly 
necessary to attempt to make verse of this. In the 
original text Fellow is made to stand as part of the 
first line. 

66!^. Go., and commend me to my brother CaS' 
sius. — See 278. 

668. Bid him set on his powers betimes before. — 
The only sense which the expression to set on now 



I 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 359 

retains is to excite or instigate to make an attack. 
The other senses which it had in Shakespeare's day 
may be seen from 27 (" Set on ; and leave no cere- 
mony out") ; from the passage before us, in which 
it means to lead forward or set out with ; from 713 
(" Let them set on at once ") ; from 745 (" Labeo 
and Flavius, set our battles on "). — Betimes (mean- 
ing early) is commonly supposed to be a corruption 
of by time^ that is, it is said, by the proper time. 
But this is far from satisfactory. Shakespeare has 
occasionally betime. [Compare Chaucer (^Parson^s 
Tale) : " If men be so negligent that they descharge 
it nought by tyme;" and Rob. de Brunne : "If he 
bi tyme had gon." These and similar examples 
seem to confirm the etymology mentioned above. 
Betimes is found in the Bible, Gen. xxvi. 31 ; 2 
Chron. xxxvi. 15, etc.] 

ACT V. 

Scene I. The heading — '•'-Scene I. The plains 
of Philippi" — is modern, as usual. 

670. Their battles are at hand. — Battle is com- 
mon in our old wi'iters with the sense of a division of 
an army, or what might now be called a battalion. 
So again in 673. When employed more precisely 
the word means the central or main division. 

670. They mean to warn us. — To warn was 
foimerly the common word for what we now call to 
summon. Persons charged with offences, or against 
whom complaints were made, were warned to ap- 
pear to make their answers ; members were warned 
to attend the meetings of the companies or other 
associations to which they belonged ; and in war 
either of the hostile parties, as here, was said to be 



360 Philological Commentary, [act v* 

warned when in any way called upon or appealed 
to by the other. Thus in Kmg John^ ii. x, the 
citizens of Angiers, making their appearance in an- 
swer to the French and English trumpets, exclaim, 
"Who is it that hath warned us to the walls?" 
The word, which is connected with ware and wary^ 
is from the Saxon warfiian. But the Anglo-Norman 
dialect of the French has also garner and garnisker 
with the same meaning. 

671 . With fearful bravery. — Malone's notion is, 
that '"'■ fearful is used here, as in many other places, 
in an SiCtiwe seme,— r- producing fear — intimidat- 
ing." But the utmost, surely, that Antony can be 
understood to admit is, that their show of bravery 
was intended to intimidate. It seems more conso- 
nant to the context to take fearful bravery for bravery 
in show or appearance, which yet is full of real fear 
or apprehension. Steevens suggests that the ex- 
pression is probably to be interpreted by the follow- 
ing passage from the Second Book of Sidney's Arca- 
dia : " Her horse, fair and lusty ; which she rid so 
as might show a fearfd boldness, daring to do that 
which she knew that she knew not how to do." The 
meaning is only so as showed (not so as should 
show). In like manner a few pages before we have, 
" But his father had so deeply engraved the sus- 
picion in his heart, that he thought his flight rather 
to proceed of a fearful guiltiness, than of an hum- 
ble faithfulness." [" Fearful " in the sense of timo- 
rous, faint-hearted, is very common in Old English. 
See Deut. xx. 8 ; Judges vii. 3 ; Isa. xxxv. 4 ; 
Matt. viii. 26 ; Rev, xxi. 8, etc. So in 3 Henry 
VI. ii. 5, " the fearful flying hare." » Dreadful " 
is used in the same sense by Chaucer ( C. T. 1481) : 
" With dredful foot than stalketh Palamon ; " and 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 361 

(C. T. 11621): "With dredful herte and with ful 
humble chere." So Gower ( Conf. Am. i. p. 247) : 
" Whereof the dredfull hertes tremblen." Widif s 
Bible has "a dreedful herte" in Deut. xxviii. 65. 
Compare the use of "awful" in Milton (^Hymn 
on Nativ. 59) : " And kings sat still with awful 
eye."] 

671. By this face. — By this show or pretence of 
courage. 

671. To fasten in our thoughts that they have 
courage. — We have now lost the power of con- 
struing to fasten in this way, as if it belonged to 
the same class of verbs with to think., to believe., to 
suppose., to imagine., to say., to assert., to affirni., to 
declare., to sxuear., to convince., to inform., to re- 
member., to forget., etc., the distinction of which 
seems to be that they are all significant either of an 
operation performed by, or at least with the aid of, 
or of an effect produced upon, the mind. 

672. [ Their bloody sign of battle., etc. — Com- 
pare North's Plutarch: "The next morning by 
break of day, the signal of battle was set out in 
Brutus' and Cassius' camp, which was an arming 
scarlet coat."] 

674. Keep thou the left. — Ritson remarks — 
" The tenor of the conversation evidently requires 
us to read yozi." He means, apparently, that you 
and yozir are the words used elsewhere throughout 
the conversation. But he forgets that the singular 
pronoun is peculiarly emphatic in this line, as being 
placed in contrast or opposition to the /. It is true, 
however, that thou a.nd yozi were apt to be mistaken 
for one another in old handwriting from the simi- 
larity of the characters used for th and y, which is 
such that the printers have in many cases been led 



362 Philological Commentarv. [act v. 

to represent the one by the other, giving us, for in- 
stance, jj/e for the^ yereof^ or y'' of ^ for thereof, etc. 

675- Why do yoic cross me in this exigent? — 
This is Shakespeare's word for what we now call 
an exigence, or exigency. Both forms, however, 
were already in use in his dayi, Exige7it, too, as 
Nares observes, appears to have then sometimes 
borne the sense of extremity or end, which is a very 
slight extension of its proper import of great or ex- 
treme pressure. [For an instance of this use of the 
word, see i Henry VI. ii. 5 : — 

These eyes, like lamps whose wasting oil is spent, 
Grow dim, as drawing to their exigent.] 

677. Drum^etz. — '•''Lucilius, Titinius, Afessala, 
and Others" is a modern addition to the heading 
here. 

679. Shall we give sign of battle? — We should 
now say " give signal." 

680. We will a7iswer 07z their charge. — We will 
wait till they begin to make their advance. 

680. Make forth. — To make, a word which is 
still used with perhaps as much latitude and variety 
of application as any other in the language, was, 
like to do, employed formerly in a number of ways 
in which it has now ceased to serve us. Nares 
arranges its obsolete senses under seven heads, no 
one of which, however, exactly comprehends the 
sense it bears in the present expression. To make 
forth is to step forward. What Antony says is 
addressed, not to the troops, but to Octavius ; his 
meaning is, Let us go forward ; the generals — 
Brutus and Cassius — would hold some parley 
with us. 

686. T'he posttire of your blows are yet unknown. 
— This is the reading of all the old copies. The 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 363 

grammatical irregularity is still common. ^^ Is yet" 
is the correction of Mr. Collier's MS. annotator. 
One would be inclined rather to suspect the word 
posture. It seems a strange word for what it is evi- 
dently intended to express. 

689. Struck Ccesar on the neck. — O you flat- 
terers! — The word in the old text is strook (as in 
347). There is the common prosodical irregularity 
of a superfluous short syllable. — See 600. 

690. Flatterers ! — Now^ Bi'utus^ thank yourself. 

— The prosodical imperfection of this line consists 
in the want of the first syllable. It is a hemistich 
consisting of four feet and a half. 

691. The proof of it. — That is, the proof of our 
arguing. And by the proof viwy'&t here be meant the 
arbitrament of the sword to which it is the prologue 
or prelude. It is by that that they are to prove what 
they have been arguing or asserting. 

691. Look ! I draw a sword., etc. — It is perhaps 
as well to regard the Look as a hemistich (of half a 
foot) ; but in the original edition it is printed in the 
same line with what follows. 

691 . Never., till Caesar's three and thirty wounds. 

— Theobald changed this to " three and twenty" — 
" from the joint authorities," as he says, " of Appian, 
Plutarch, and Suetonius." And he may be right in 
believing that the error was not Shakespeare's. The 
" thirty," however, escapes the condemnation of Mr. 
Collier's MS. annotator. 

691. Have added slaughter to the sword of 
traitors. — This is not very satisfactory ; but it is 
better, upon the whole, than the amendment adopted 
by Mr, Collier on the authority of his MS. annota- 
tor — " Have added slaughter to the word of traitor ; " 

— which would seem to be an admission on the part 



364 Philological Commentary, [act v. 

of Octavius (impossible in the circumstances) that 
Brutus and Cassius were as yet free from actual 
treasonable slaughter, and traitors only in word or 
name. [Collier, in his second edition, remarks that 
" the emendation may reasonably be disputed," and 
returns to the old reading.] 

692. Ccesar^ thou canst not die by traitors' hands. 
— In the standard Variorum edition, which is fol- 
lowed by many modern reprints, this line is strangely 
given as " Csesar, thou canst not die by traitors." It 
is right in all Mr. Knight's and Mr. Collier's edi- 
tions. 

694. O, if thou ivert the noblest oj" thy strain. — 
Strain^ or streize, is stock or race. The word is 
used several times by Shakespeare in this sense, and 
not only by Chaucer and Spenser, but even by Dry- 
den, Waller, and Prior. The radical meaning seems 
to be anything stretched out or extended ; hence a 
series either of progenitors, or of words or musical 
notes or sentiments. 

694. Thou couldst not die more honorable. — 
This is not Shakespeare's usual form of expression, 
and we may suspect that he actually wrote honora- 
bly (or honotirablie). 

697. The original stage direction is' '•'•Exit Octa- 
vius^ Anto7iy^ and Army." 

698. [ Why now., blow., wind; etc. — In White's 
edition this line is punctuated as a question — a 
misprint probably.] 

699. Hoi Lticilius; etc. — This is given as one 
verse in the original, and nothing is gained by print- 
ing the Ho ! in another line by itself, as some modern 
editors do. The verse is complete, except that it 
wants the first syllable — a natural peculiarity of an 
abrupt commencement or rejoinder. So in 690. — 



sc. I.] Julius C-^esar. 365 

In the original edition this speech is followed by 
the stage direction '"'• Lttcillius aitd JSIessala stand 
yorth; " and there is no other after 700. 

703. As this very day. — We are still familiar 
with this form of expression, at least in speaking. 
We may understand it to mean As is, or as falls, this 
very day ; or rather, perhaps, as if, or as it were, 
this very day. 

703. On our foriner ensign. — JPortner is altered 
to forward., it seems, by Mr. Collier's MS. annotator ; 
and the correction ought probably to be accepted. 
[But, as White remarks, the use of the comparative 
for the superlative was not uncommon in Shake- 
speare's day ; and Collier himself retains former. '\ 

703. Who to Philippi here consorted us. — 
Shakespeare's usual syntax is to cotzsort with; but 
he has consort as an active verb in other passages as 
well as here. 

703. This morning are they fed away., and gone. 

— See 373. 

703. As we were sickly prey. — As if we were. — 
See 57. 

703. \_A canopy most fatal. — Hudson has " faith- 
ful " instead of " fatal." If not a misprint, it is a 
most unfortunate alteration.] 

705. To meet all perils. — So in the First Folio. 
The other Folios have peril. 

707. Lovers in peace. — See 259. 

707. But., since the affairs of men rest still un- 
certain. — "i?e5/i- still incertaine" is the reading in 
the original edition. 

707. Lefs reason with the worst that 7nay befall. 

— The abbreviation lefs had not formerly the vulgar 
or slovenly air which is conceived to unfit it now 
for dignified composition. We have had it twice 



366 Philological Commentary, [act v. 

in Brutus's impressive address, 187. Shakespeare, 
however, does not frequently resort to it, — rather, 
one would say, avoids it. — To befall as a neuter or 
intransitive verb is nearly gone out both in prose and 
verse ; as is also to fall in the same sense, as used 
by Brutus in the next speech. 

708. Even by the rule^ etc. — The construction 
plainly is, I know not how it is, but I do find it, by the 
rule of that philosophy, etc., cowardly and vile. The 
common pointing of the modern editors, which com- 
pletely separates "' I know not how," etc., from what 
precedes, leaves the " by the rule " without connec- 
tion or meaning. It is impossible to suppose that 
Brutus can mean " I am determined to do by the rule 
of that philosophy," etc. [This meaning, which Craik 
considers " impossible " (I am determined to do by, 
i. e. act in accordance with, govern myself by, the 
rule of that philosophy, etc.), seems, on the whole, 
the best possible. So Dyce and Hudson appear 
to understand the passage, pointing it as follows, 
making " I know not how . . . The time of life " 
parenthetical : — 

Even by the rule of that philosophy, 

By which I did blame Cato for the death 

"Which he did give himself; — I know not how, 

But I do find it cowardly and vile, 

For fear of what might fall, so to prevent 

The time of life ; — arming myself with patience, etc. 

Collier and White put a period after " himself;" but 
how the latter part of the passage is to be interpreted 
with that pointing, is beyond my comprehension.] 

708. The tert?i of life. — That is, the termination, 
the end, of life. The common reading is " the tivie 
of life," which is simply nonsense ; tertti is the emen- 
dation of Mr. Collier's MS. annotator, and the same 



sc. I.] Julius C^sar. 367 

emendation had also been made conjecturally by 
Capell, though it failed to obtain the acquiescence 
■ of subsequent editors. [I cannot but think, with 
Dyce, that the alteration is a most unnecessary one. 
As Hudson says, " by time is meant the full time, 
the natural period." Staunton compares " the time 
of life is short," i Henry IV. v. 2, but it is not 
exactly parallel to the expression here.] For to 
■prevent^ see 147 and 161. 

708. To stay the provide7ice of those high powers. 
— To stay is here to await, not, as the word more 
commonly means, to hinder or delay. — " Some high 
powers " is the common reading ; those is the cor- 
rection of Mr. Collier's MS. annotator, and might 
almost have been assumed on conjecture to be the 
true word. [It is not adopted by Dyce, Hudson, 
Staunton, or White.] 

709. \_Thorough the streets. — See 338.] 

710. iVb, Cassius^no : etc. — There has been some 
controversy about the reasoning of Brutus in this 
dialogue. Both Steevens and JNIalone conceive that 
there is an inconsistency between what he here says 
and his previous declaration of his determination 
not to follow the example of Cato. But how did 
Cato act? He slew himself that he might not wit- 
ness and outlive the fall of Utica. This was, merel}'' 
"for fear of what might fall," to anticipate the end 
of life. It did not follow that it would be wrong, in 
the opinion of Brutus, to commit suicide in order to 
escape any certain and otherwise inevitable calamity 
or degradation, such as being led in triumph through 
the streets of Rome by Octavius and Antony. 

It is proper to remark, however, that Plutarch, 
upon whose narrative the conversation is founded, 
makes Brutus confess to a change of opinion. Here 



368 Philological Commentary, [act v. 

is the passage, in the Life of Brutus, as translated 
by Sir Thomas North : " Then Cassius began to 
speak first, and said : The gods grant us, O Brutus, 
that this day we may win the field, and ever after to 
live all the rest of our life quietly, one with another. 
But, sith the gods have so ordained it, that the great- 
est and chiefest [things] amongst men are most 
uncertain, and that, if the battle fall out otherwise 
to-day than we wish or look for, we shall hardly 
meet again, what art thou then determined to do? 
to fly ? or die ? Brutus answered him : Being yet 
but a young man, and not over greatly experienced 
in the world, I trust [^irusfed^ (I know not how) a 
certain rule of philosophy, by the which I did greatly 
blame and reprove Cato for killing of himself, as 
being no lawful nor godly act touching the gods, 
nor, concerning men, valiant ; not to give place and 
yield to divine Providence, and not constantly and 
joatiently to take whatsoever it pleaseth him to send 
us, but to draw back and fly. But, being now in the 
midst of the danger, I am of a contrary mind. For, 
if it be not the will of God that this battle fall out 
fortunate for us, I will look no more for hope, neither 
seek to make any new supply for war again, but will 
rid me of this miserable world, and content me with 
my fortune. For I gave up my life for my country 
in the Ides of March ; for the which I shall live in 
another more glorious world." 

This compared with the scene in the Play affords 
a most interesting and instructive illustration of the 
maimer in which the great dramatist worked in such 
cases, appropriating, rejecting, adding, as suited his 
purpose, but refining or elevating everything, though 
sometimes by the slightest touch, and so transmuting 
all into the gold of poetry. 



I 



sc. II., III.] Julius C^sar. 369 

710. Must end that "ojork the ides of March 
begun. — Begun is the word in the old editions. 
Mr. Collier has began. The three last Folios all 
have " that Ides of March begun." 

Scene II. 713. Give these bills. — These billets, 
as we should now say ; but Shakespeare takes the 
word which he found in North's Plutarch : " In 
the mean time Brutus, that led the right wing, sent 
little bills to the colonels and captains of private 
bands, in which he wrote the word of the battle." 

As in all other cases throughout the Play, the 
notices of the locality of what are here called the 
Second and Third Scenes are modern additions to 
the old text, in which there is no division into scenes. 
The stage directions in regard to alarums, entries, 
etc., are all in the First Folio. 

713. But cold demeanour in Octavius' wing.-^- 
The original text has '■'•Octavids wing." In 715, 
however, it is Octavius. 

Scene III. 7i4' This ensign here of mine was 
turning back. — Here the term ensign may almost 
be said to be used with the double meaning of both 
the standard and the standard-bearer. 

715. Took it too eagerly. — Followed his ad- 
vantage too eagerly. The prosody of this line, with 
its two superfluous syllables, well expresses the hurry 
and impetuosity of the speaker. 

719. \_Whether yond troops. — See 65. Hudson 
and White in both passages give yond\ as il yond 
were not a good English word. So in 724 they 
print 'light for light.'] 

721. Go, Pindarus^ get higher 07t that hill. — 
This is the reading of the First Folio ; all the others 
24 



37© Philological Commentary, [act v. 

have " get hither." The stage direction '■'■Exit Pin- 
darus" is modern. 

721. This day I breathed Jirst. — Compare this 
expression with wliat we have in 703: "As this 
very day Was Cassius born." 

721. Time is come round. . . . My life is run 
his compass. — See 373- 

721. Sirrah^ what news? — The expressive effect 
of the break in the even flow of the rhythm produced 
by the superfluous syllable here, and the vividness 
with which it brings before us the sudden awakening 
of Cassius from his reverie, startled, we may sup- 
pose, by some sign of agitation on the part of Pin- 
darus, will be felt if we will try how the line would 
read with '■'■Sir., what news?" 

724. With horseme7i that make to him on the 
spur. — One of the applications of the verb to make 
which we have now lost. See 680. 

724. Now., Titinitisl Now some light: etc. — It 
may be doubted whether the verb to light or alight 
have any connection with either the substantive or 
the adjective light. There evidently was, however, 
in that marvellous array in which the whole world 
of words was marshalled in the mind of Milton: — 

So, besides 
Mine own that bide upon me, all from me 
Shall with a fierce reflux on me redound ; 
On me, as on their natural centre, light 
Heavy. Par. Lost., x. 741. 

In the original text, " He's ta'en" stands in a line by 
itself, as frequently happens in that edition with 
words that really belong to the preceding verse, and 
possibly, notwithstanding their detached position, 
were intended to be represented as belonging to it. 

725. Take thou the hilts. — Formerly the hilts 



sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 371 

was rather more common than the hilt. Shake- 
speare uses both forms. Hilt is a Saxon word, and 
is connected, apparently, with healda7i^ to hold. 

725. Even ivith the sword that killed thee. — 
See 362. The stage directions. Dies and Exit, are 
modern ; and for '•'' Re-e7tter Titinius, ivith Mes- 
sala" the old copies have '•'"Enter" etc. 

727. It is but change. — The battle is only a suc- 
cession of alternations or vicissitudes. 

734. No, this was he, Messala. — With the em- 
phasis on ivas. 

734. As in thy red rays thou dost sitik to night. 
— The to night here seems to be generally undei"- 
stood as meaning this night. Both Mr. Collier and 
Mr. Knight print " to-night." But surely a far 
nobler sense is given to the words by taking sink to 
night to be an expression of the same kind with si7tk 
to rest or si7ik to sleep. The colorless dulness of 
the coming night is contrasted with the red glow in 
which the luminary is descending. " O setting sun, 
Thou dost si7ik," meaning simply thou dost set, is 
not much in Shakespeare's manner. Besides, we 
hardly say, absolutely, that the sun sinks, whether 
we mean that it is setting or only that it is descend- 
ing. And the emphasis given by the to-night to the 
mere expression of the time seems uncalled-for and 
unnatural. There is no trace of a hyphen in the old 
copies. [In his second edition Collier omits the 
hyphen, " at the instance of Mr. Craik." Dyce, 
Hudson, Staunton, and White also have " to night." 
White prints " do'st," confounding doest and dost, 
the latter of which is the established form when the 
verb is an auxiliary, as here. Dost is sometimes 
found in old writers for doest (as in 3, " What dost 
thou," etc., where White so prints it), but I believe 



372 Philological Commentary, [act v. 

doest is not found for dost. In 737, White prints 
"did'st" for "didst." He has also such forms as 
" cri'd," " tri'd," and " di'st," which, though con- 
tractions of legitimate words, are none the less 
offensive to the eye.] 

734, 735. Mistrust of my success, etc. — These 
two lines may show us that the word sttccess was not 
yet when Shakespeare wrote quite fixed in the sense 
which it now bears. It is plain that success simply 
was not understood to imply all that was conveyed 
by the expression good success. By " mistrust of 
my success" Titinius must be interpreted as meaning 
no more than mistrust, doubt, or apprehension of 
what I had i^net with ; in conformity with what he 
afterwards says in apostrophizing Cassius, " Alas, 
thou hast misconstrued everything." [Compare 
Josh. i. 8. Hall {Henry IV.), 1548, has "un- 
fortunate success ; " and North {^PlutarcKs Ara- 
tus), 1597, "good success." For other examples 
see 229.] 

735. O hateful Error I Melancholy's child I — 
Error and Melancholy are personages, and the words 
are proper names, here. [Dyce, Hudson, and White 
do not use the capitals.]. 

735. To the apt thoughts of men. — See 344. 

738. Hie you, Messala. — See 139. 

738. And I will seek for Pitidarus the while. — 
We are still familiar enough with the while, for 
meanwhile, or in the mean time, in poetry, in which 
so many phrases not of the day ai'e preserved ; but 
the expression no longer forms part of what can 
properly be called our living English. 

The stage direction, '"''Exit Messala" is modern. 

738. And bid me give it thee? etc. — This is no 






sc. III.] Julius C^sar. 373 

Alexandrine, but only a common heroic verse with 
two supernumerary short syllables. 

738. But hold thee. — Equivalent to our modern 
But hold, or but stop. 

738. Brutus^ cotne apace. — Apace is literally at, 
or rather on, pace ; that is, by the exertion of all 
your power of pacing. See 65. 

738. By your leave., gods. — See 357. The stage 
direction that follows this speech in the original 
edition is, Alarum. Enter Brutus., Messala.^ yong 
Cato., Strato., Volumnius, and Lucillius." 

740. Titinhis niourjimg it. — An unusual con- 
struction of the verb to mourn in this sense. We 
speak commonly enough of mourning the death of a 
person, or any other thing that may have happened ; 
we might even perhaps speak of mourning the per- 
son who is dead or the thing that is lost ; but we 
only mourn over the dead body. So with lament. 
We lament the death or the loss, the man or the 
thing, but not the body out of which the spirit 
is gone. 

743. In our own -proper entrails. — That is, 
into., as we should now say. [See 12, 45, and 122.] 

744. Look ivhe'r he have not. — That is, '•'"whether 
he have not." See 16. The word is here again 
printed "where" in the original edition. 

745. The last of all the Romans. — This is the 
reading of all the Folios ; and it is left untouched by 
Mr. Collier's MS. corrector. "-Thou last" is the 
conjectural emendation of Rowe. [Dyce, Hudson, 
and White have " the."] 

745. I owe moe tears. — Mbe (or mo) is the word 
as it stands in both the First and the Second Folio. 
See 158. 

745. To Thassos send his body. — Thassos is 



374 Philological Commentary, [act v. 

misprinted Tharsus in all the Folios, and the error 
was first corrected by Theobald. Thassos is the 
place mentioned by Plutarch (in his Life of Brutus) 
as that to which the body was sent to be interred, 
and the name is correctly given in North's transla- 
tion, which Shakespeare had before him. [The 
Cambridge Edition gives T/iasos, which is the more 
correct form of the name.] 

745. His funerals. — As we still say nuptials^ so 
they formerly often %dcidi funerals. [Hudson has " fu- 
neral" here. Compai'e Titus Andronicus., i. i : — 

and wise Laertes' son 

Did graciously plead for his funerals.] 

So funerailles in French andftmera in Latin. On 
the other hand, Shakespeare's word is always nup- 
tial. Nuptials occurs only in one passage of the 
very corrupt text oi Pericles : " We'll celebrate their 
nuptials" (v. 3), and in one other passage of Othello 
as it stands in the Qiiarto : " It is the celebration 
of his nuptials (ii. 2), where, however, all the other 
old copies have nuptial^ as elsewhere. 

745. Labeo a?zd Flavius., etc. — In the First Folio, 
'•'•Labio and Flavio ;" in the others, ^'•Labio and 
FlaviusT 

For " set our battles on" see ()6^. 

745. ^Tis three d clock. — In the original edition, 
" three a clocke." See 85. 

Scene IV. All that we have in the Folios for 
the heading of this Scene is, '■''Alarum.. Enter 
Brutus., Messala., Cato., Lucilius., and Flavius." 
And the only stage directions that we have through- 
out the Scene are '•'•Enter Soldiers., and fight" im- 
mediately before the speech of Brutus (746), and the 
'■'' Exeunt" at the end. 



sc. IV.] Julius C^sar. 375 

747. What bastard doth not? — See 177. 

751' There is so much, that thou wilt kill me 
straight. The evident meaning of these words has 
strangely escaped the acuteness of Warburton, whose 
interpretation (1747) is, "So much resistance still 
on foot, that thou wilt choose to rid me out of the 
way, that thou mayst go, without the embarras of 
prisoners, to the assistance of thy friends who still 
want it." The true explanation is very well given 
by Heath in replying to this (in his Revisal of 
Shakespeare^ s Text, 1765): "There is so much 
money for thee, on condition that thou wilt kill me 
straight." 

752. We 7nust not. — A noble prisoner I — The 
original edition places the entry of Antony immedi- 
ately after this speech. 

754. /'// tell the news. — This is the conjectural 
emendation of Theobald. All the Folios, and also 
both Rowe and Pope, have thee for the. Mr. Collier 
adopts the emendation. [So do Dyce, Hudson, and 
White.] 

757. And see ivhe^r Brutus be alive or dead. — 
See 16 and 744. It is " where " again in the original 
text. 

757. How everything is chanced. — See 69 and 

373- 

Scene V. The heading of Scene V., with the 
locality, is, as usual, modern. 

760. Sit thee down. — In this common phrase, 
Apparently, the neuter verb to sit has taken the place 
)f the active to seat. Or perhaps we ought rather 
to say that both in Sit thee and in Hark thee, which 
we have in the next line and again in 764, thee has 
usurped the function of thou. We have a similar 



37^ Philological Commentary, [act v. 

irregularity in Fare (that is, go) thee ivell. [Verbs 
of motion in Saxon ai'e followed by the dative : sit 
thee is nothing more than a case of this dative, per- 
haps ; or if a reflective verb, it is nothing strange.] 
— The marginal '"'•Whispering" at this speech is 
modern ; and so is the " Whispers him " at 764. 

770* That it rujis over. — So that, as in 15. 

773. Here in Philippi fields. — A common enough 
form of expression ; as Chelsea Fields, Kensington 
Gardens. There is no need of an apostrophe 
to Philippi. [North's Plutarch has " Philippian 
fields."] 

775. Hold thou my sword hilts. — See 725. 

777- There is no tarrying here. — So in Macbeth.i 
V. 5, " There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here." 
The expression is from North's Plutarch : " Vo- 
lumnius denied his request, and so did many others. 
And, amongst the rest, one of them said, there was 
no tarrying for them there^ but that they must 
nee Is fly." 

778. Parewell to you; — etc. — Mr. Collier ap- 
pends the stage direction, '•''Shaking hands sev- 
erally." 

778. Faretvell to thee too., Strato. — In all the 
Folios this stands, " Farewell to thee, to Strato." 
The correction is one of the many made by Theo- 
bald which have been universally acquiesced in. It 
appears to have escaped Mr. Collier's MS. annotator. 

780. He?tce; I will follow. — This is the reading 
of all the old copies. Pope adds thee., in order to 
make a complete line of the two hemistichs. — The 
'•'•Exeimt Clitus" etc., is modern. 

780. Thou art a fellow of a good respect. — 
See 48. 

780. Thy life hath had some smatch of honot 



sc. v.] Julius C^sar. 377 

in it. — SmatcJi is only another form of smack^ 
meaning taste. Smack is the word which Shake- 
speare commonly uses, both as noun and verb. 
[White has " smack."] 

In the early editions, the stage direction after the 
last speech of Brutus (782) is, simply, "Z^z'e^;" and 
in the Etitry that follows Antony is placed before 
Octavitis, and " their Army" is " the Army." 

787. I will e7itertaifi them. — Receive them into 
my service. 

787. Wilt thou bestow thy time with m.e ? — 
Here is another sense of bestow^ in addition to that 
in 139, which is now lost. Bestow thy time with 
nie means give up thy time to me. 

788. If Messala will f refer i7ie to you. — " To 
prefer" Reed observes, " seems to have been the 
established phrase for recojntnending a servant." 
And he quotes from The Merchant of Venice., ii. 2, 
what Bassanio says to Launcelot, — 

Shylock, thy master, spoke with me this day, 
And hath preferred thee. 

But to prefer was more than merely to recommend. 
It was rather to transfer, or hand over ; as might be 
inferred even from what Octavius here rejoins, " Do 
so, good Messala." That it had come usually to 
imply also something of promotion may be seen 
from what Bassanio goes on to say : — 

if it be preferment 

To leave a rich Jew's service, to become 
The follower of so poor a gentleman. 

The sense of the verb to prefer that we have in 
Shakespeare continued current down to a consid- 
erably later date. Thus Clarendon writes of Lord 
Cottington, " His mother was a Stafford, nearly 



378 Philological Commentary, [act v. 

allied to Sir Edward Stafford ; ... by whom this 
gentleman was brought up, . . . and by him i-ecom- 
mended to Sir Robert Cecil . . . ; who preferred 
him to Sir Charles Cornwallis, when he went am- 
bassador into Spain ; where he remained for the 
space of eleven or twelve years in the condition of 
Secretary or Agent, without ever returning' into 
England in all that time" {Hist.^ Book xiii.). 

At an earlier date, again, we have Bacon, in the 
Dedication of the first edition of his Essays to his 
brother Anthony, thus writing : " Since they would 
not stay with their master, but would needs travail 
abroad, I have pi^eferred them to you, that are next 
myself, dedicating them, such as they are, to our 
love," etc. 

790. How died my master^ Strata P — So the 
First Folio. The Second, by a misprint, omits. 
master. The Third and Fourth have " my lord." 

792. Octavius., then take kim^ etc. — That is, 
accept or receive him from me. It is not, I request 
you tp allow him to enter your service ; but I give 
him to you. See 788. 

793. He only^ in a generous honest thought Of 
common good., etc. — We are indebted for this read- 
ing to Mr. Collier's MS. annotator. It is surely a 
gx-eat improvement upon the old text, — 

He only in a general honest thought, 

And common good to all, made one of them. 

To act "in a general honest thought" is perhaps 
intelligible, though barely so ; but, besides the tau- 
tology which must be admitted on the common in- 
terpretation, what is to act " in a common good to 
all " ? [Dyce, Hudson, and White follow the old 
text, which is hardly so bad as Collier and Craik 
would make it.] 



sc. v.] Julius C^sar. 379 

793. Made one of t/ie?n. — In this still familiar 
idiom made is equivalent to formed, constituted, and 
one must be considered as the accusative governed 
by it. Fecit tmuin ex eis^ or eorum (by joining 
himself to them). 

Here is the prose of Plutarch, as translated by 
North, out of which this poetry has been wrought : 
"For it was said that Antonius spake it openly 
divers times, that he thought, that, of all them that 
had slain Ciesar, there was none but Brutus only 
that was moved to it as thinking the act commenda- 
ble of itself; but that all the other conspirators did 
conspire his death for some private malice or envy 
that they otherwise did bear unto him." 

793. His life was geiitle; and the elements^ etc. 
— This passage is remarkable from its resemblance to 
a passage in Drayton's poem of The Barons' Wars. 
Drayton's poem was oi'iginally published some years 
before the close of the sixteenth century (according 
to Ritson, Bibl. Poet., under the title oi '■'• Morteme- 
riados. . . . Printed by J. R. for Matthew Lownes, 
1596," 4to) ; but there is, it seems, no trace of the 
passage in question in that edition. The first edition 
in which it is found is that of 1603, in which it 
stands thus : — 

Such one he was (of him we boldly say) 

In whose rich soul all sovereign powers did suit, 

In whom in peace the elements all lay 

So mixt, as none could sovereignty impute ; 

As all did govern, j'Ct all did obey : 

His lively temper was so absolute. 

That 't seemed, when heaven his model first began, 

In him it showed perfection in a man. 

[And the stanza remained thus in the editions of 
1605, 1607, 1608, 1610, and 1613.] 



380 Philological Commentary, [act v. 

In a subsequent edition published in 1619 it is 
remodelled as follows : — 

He was a man (then boldly dare to say) 
In whose rich soul the virtues well did suit; 
In whom so mixt the elements all lay 
That none to one could sovereignty impute ; 
As all did govern, so did all obey : 
He of a temper was so absolute, 
As that it seemed, when nature him began, 
She mtant to show all that might be in man. 

Malone is inclined to think that Drayton was the 
copyist, even as his verses originally stood. " In 
the altered stanza," he adds, " he certainly was." 
Steevens, in the mistaken notion that Drayton's 
stanza as found in the edition of his Barons^ Wars 
published in 1619 had appeai"ed in the original 
poem, published, as he conceives, in 1598, had sup- 
posed that Shakespeare had in this instance deigned 
to imitate or boiTow from his contemporary. 

[White remarks, "But this resemblance implies 
no imitation on either side. For the notion that 
man was composed of the four elements, earth, air, 
fire, and water, and that the well-balanced mixture 
of these produced the prefection of humanity, was 
commonly held during the sixteenth, and the first 
half, at least, of the seventeenth century, the writers 
of which period worked it up in all manner of forms. 
Malone himself pointed out the following passage in 
Ben Jonson's Cy tit kid's Revels (ii. 3), which was 
acted in 1600, three years before the publication of 
the recast jBarons' Wars : ' A creature of a most 
perfect and divine temper^ one in whom the 
humours and elements are peaceably met^ without 
emtilation of precedency.^ And see the Mirror 
for Magistrates^ Part I., 1575 : — 



sc. v.] Julius C^sar. 381 

If wee consider could the substance of a man 
How he composed is of Elements by kinde, etc. 

And The Oftick Glass of Humours : ' Wee must 
know that all natural bodies have their composition 
of the tnixture of the Eletne7its^ fire, aire, water, 
earth.' See also Nares's Glossary and Richardson's 
English Dictionary^ in v. ' Elements.' . . . Im- 
itation of one poet by another might have been much 
more reasonably charged by any editor or com- 
mentator who had happened to notice the following 
similarity between a speech of Antony's and another 
passage in the ^aro^zy Wars: — 

I tell you that which you yourselves do know; 

Shew you sweet Cajsar's -wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths, 

Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue 
/« every -wound of Coe.sar, etc. (iii. 3.) 

That now their -wounds Qwtth mouthes euen open'd wide) 
Lastly inforc'd to call for present death, 

That -wa?its but Tongues, your Swords doe giue them breath. 
(Book ii. St. 38, ed. 1603.) " ] 

794. To part the glories of this happy day. — 
That is, to distribute to each man his due share in 
its glories. The original stage direction is '•''Exeunt 
omnes." 



INDEX. 



a-, an-, 65, 559. 
abide, 326. 
abjects, 497. 
aboard, 65. 
aby, 326. 
addressed, 299. 
advantage, 357. 
afeard, 244. 
aim, 57. 
alderliefest, 54. 
alight, 724. 
alive, 65. 
all over, 175. 
aloft, 65. 
along by, 200. 
and (an), 89. 
apace, 73S. 
apparent, 194. 
approve, 147. 
apt, 344- 
aptitude, 344. 

are, 129, 559. 

arrive, 54. 

art (noun), 614. 

art (verb), 559. 

as, 44, 57, 177, 328, 407, 
703- 

ascended (is), 373. 

aside, 65. 

assembly, 246. 

astir, 251. 

as well, 56. 

at, 507. 

Ate, 362. 

attempered, 561. 

augurer, 194. 

aweary, etc., 559. 

awful, 671. 

ay, 54. 529- 

aye, 674. 

ay me ! 278. 



bait, 528, 529. 
base, 147. 



bastard, 177. 
bate, 528, 529. 
battle, 670. 
bay, 348, 528, 529. 
be, 559. 
be (are), 67. 
be-, 389, 4sg. 
bear hard, 103. 
become, 389 
been, 268. 
beest, 559. 
befall, 69, 707. 
behaviors, 43. 
beholden, 389. 
believe, 389. 
belike, 459. 
belong, 3S9. 
beloved, 389. 
beseech, 389. 
beshrew, 186. 
beside, 347. 
bestow, T39, 787. 
betimes, 668. 
betoken, 389. 
bid, 3. 
bills, 713. 
bloods, 56. 
break with, 182. 
bring, 106. 
business, 495. 
bustle, 266. 
busy, 266. 
by, 124, 344. 



can, I, 559. 
carrion, 177. 
cast, 122. 
cause, I. 
cautel, 177. 
cautelous, 177. 
censure, 374. 
ceremonies, 16, 194. 
chafe, 54. 
chance, 69. 



charactery, 214. 
charm, 209. 
check, 559. 
cheer, 324. 
chew, 57. 
chide, 568. 
clean, 110. 
clever, 347. 
color, 147. 
come home, 104. 
comfort, 211. 
command, 278. 
commend, 278. 
commerce, 524. 
compact, 351. 
companion, 577. 
company, 577. 
con, SS9- 
conceit, 142. 
condemn to, 524- 
condition, 205. 
consort, 703. 
constant, 262, 309. 
content, 518. 
continence, S4- 
contrite, 259. 
contrive, 259. 
council, 262, 497. 
counsel, 262, 497. 
countenance, 54. 
court, 304 
courteous, 304. 
courtesies, 304. 
creature, i8i. 
cunning, SS9- 
curse, 186. 
curst, 186. 
curtsies, 304. 



damage, 147. 
danger, 147. 
dare, i. 
dear, 348, SS9- 
dearth, 348. 



384 



Index. 



decent, 16. 
deck, 16. 
decorate, 16. 

degrees, 147. 

deliberate, 347. 

deliver, 347. 

dent, 425. 

desire, 306. 

die, 16. 

difference, 45. 

dint, 425. 

direct, 299. 

disserve, 524- 

distract, 589. 

distraught, 589. 

do, I, 16, 147, 229, 386, 

S02. 
doom, 328. 
dost, do'st, 734. 
dotage, 304. 
dote, 304. 
dreadful, 671. 
dress, 299. 
drown, 128. 



early, 493. 
earn, 258. 
earnest, 258. 
-ed, 16, 246. 
either, 227. 
element, 130. 
emulation, 259. 
endure, i. 
enforce, 376. 
enlarge, 518. 
ensign, 714. 
entertain, 787. 
envy, 1S7. 
ere, 493. 
errand, 493. 
errant, 493. 
erroneous, 493. 
error, 493. 
esteem, 57. 
eventide, 362. 
every, 674. 
exigent, 675. 
exorcise, 221. 
expedition, 597. 



factious, 129. 
fall, 177, 358, 507, 707. 
fantasy, 194. 
far, 48, 716. 
fare thee, 760. 
farther, 45, 716. 
fasten, 671. 
fault, 120, 143. 
favor, 54, 130, 160. 
favored, 54. 
fear, 190, 244. 
fearful, 671. 



fellow, S77- 
feverous, 130. 
fire, 345. 
firm, 107. 
fleer, 129. 
flourish, 282. 
fond, 304. 
fondling, 304. 
forbid, I. 
force (of), 619. 
fore, 45. 

foreign-built, 110. 
forth, 45, 716. 
fray, 266. 
freedom, 306. 
friend (to, at), 341. 
fi'iends (friend), 352. 
from, no, 194. 
funerals, 745. 
further, 45. 



garden, 143. 
ge-, 389- 
general, 147. 
genius, 155. 
get me, 277. 
get thee gone, 260. 
give sign, 679. 
give way, 259. 
given, 66. 
glare, 109. 
go along by, 200. 
gore, 423. 
go to, 530. 
greet, 241. 
griefs, 129, 43S. 
grievances, 129. 
guess, 389. 



had best, 468. 

hailike, 57. 

ha»«iter, 57, 550. 

hail, 241. 

hale, 241. 

hand (at, in, on), 507. 

handkerchief, 218. 

hap, 69. 

happen, 69. 

happy, 69. 

hark thee, 760. 

have, I. 

havoc, 362. 

hawk, 362. 

he, 54. 

health, 533. 

heap, 109. 

hear, i. 

hearse, 421. 

heart's ease, 67. 

heir, 194. 

help, I. 

hence, 624. 



her, 54. 

herd, 128. 

herself, 56. 

hie, 139. 

hilts, 725, 775. 

himself, 56, 598. 

hind, 128. 

hinder, 161. 

his, 54. 

hit (it), 54. 

home, 624. 

home-, no. 

hour, 255. 

however, 103. 

humor, 105, 205, 240, 

560. 
hurl, 233. 
hurtle, 233. 



1,54- 

I (me), 122. 
idle, 177. 
improve, 186. 
in, 65, 122, 743. 
incorporate, 134. 
indirection, 530. 
;ing, I. 

instance, 506. 
insuppressive, 177. 
intend, i. 
is, 559- 
It, 54- 

itching, 524. 
i' the, 53. 
its, 54. 
Jtself, 54, 56. 
-ius, 61, SOI. 559. 



jealous, 50, S7- 
jig. 577- 

keep, 211. 
ken, 559. 
kerchief, 218. 
kin, 559. 
kind, 559. 
kindred, 559. 
king, 559- 
knave, 646. 
know, 559. 

lament, 740. 
lease, 362. 
leash, 362. 
let, I, 362. 
Lethe, 348. • 
let's, 707. 
liable, 67, 248. 
lie along, 333. 
lief, 54- 



Index. 



385 



light, 724. 
like, 57, 85, 258. 
likely, 57. 
likes, 105. 
listen, 497. 
lover, 186, 259. 
lusty, 54. 



main, 194. 

make, i, 680, 724, 793. 

make for, 294. 

make to, 294. 

manner, 45. 

map, 407. 

market, 524. 

marr)', 7S. 

mart, 524. 

masters, 401, 636. 

may, i. 

me, 89, 470. 

mercantile, 25, 524. 

merchant, 524. 

merely, 45 

mettle, 102. 

mind, 533. 

mistook, 46. 

moe, 158, 743. 

mourn, 740. 

must, I. 

my, 89, 205. 

myself, 54, 56, 598. 



napery, 407. 
napkin, 407. 
neckerchief, 218 
needs, 67. 
news, 589. 
nice, 523. 
niggard, 623. 
nor, 227. 
not, 181. 
nuptial, 745. 



observe, 538. 
occupation, 89. 
o'clock, 65. 
of, so, 129. 
on, 50, 65. 
once, 612. 
o' nights, 65. 
only, 56. 
ope, 89. 
or, 227. 
orchard, 143. 
order, 354. 
o' the, S3, 
other, 78. 
others, 633. 
ought, I. 
ourself, 56. 
out, 8. 



over, 2S2. 
» overwatched, 633. 
owe, I. 
owed, I. 
own, I. 



palter, 177. 

paramour, 186. 

passion, 46. 

path, i6i. 

patience, 46. 

perforce, 6ig. 

piety, 345. 

pious, 345. 

piteous, 345. 

pitiful, 345. 

pity. 343- 

plucked, 160. 

portent, 246. 

power, 127, 497. 

prefer, 7S8. 

prepare, 255. 

present, 57. 

pretend, 65. 

prevent, 147, 161, 295, 

708. 
prick, 351, 490. 
proceed, 60. 
proceeding, 248. 
prodigious, 122. 
produce to, 354. 
promised forth, 97. 
proof, 147, 691. 
proper, 12, 45. 
provender, 497. 
puissance, 497. 
puissant, 303. 



question, 376, 595. 
quite from, 194. 



rascal, 550. 
rathe, 54. 
rather, 54. 
redress, 299. 
regard, 374. 
remorse, 147. 
render, 248, 348, 370. 
repeal, 305. 
reprove, 186. 
resolved, 338. 
respect, 48, 374, S5o- 
retentive, 126. 
rived, 107. 
Rome, 56- 
rostrum, 372. 
rote, 559. 
round, 147. 
ruminate, 57. 
rumor, 266. 



scandal, 50. 

scandalize, 50. 

see, I. 

self, 54, 56. 

sennet, 39. 

sense, 497. 

separate, 443. 

set on, 225, 668. 

sever, 443. 

several, 443. 

shake, 348. 

shall, I, 181, 238, 248, 

35°. 357. 490. 619- 
she, 54. 
shew, 186. 

should, 56, 181, 238, sso- 
shrew, 186. 
shrewd, 186, 342. 
shrewishness, 186. 
sick, 209. 
sign, 679. 
sin, 16. 
sing, 16. 
-sion, 246 
sirs, 636. 
sit thee, 760. 
sleep, 362. 
slight, 493, 521. 
slip, 362. 
slips, 362. 
smatch, 780. 
so, 15, 44, 57, 147. 407- 
sooth, 267. 
sore, 186. 
sorrow, 186. 
sorry, 186. 
sort, 211. 
sound, 128. 
som% 1 86. 
speak, 646. 
springtide, 362. 
stale, 50. 
state, so. 
statue, 246. 
stay, 708. 
stirred, 251. 
strain, 694. 

strange-disposed, no. 
strew, 186. 
stricken, 46, 252. 
struck, 46, 252. 
strucken, 252, 348. 
succeed, 228. 
success, 228, 734, 735- 
such, 57, 177. 
sue, 282. 
suit, 282. 
suite, 282. 
sway, 107, 3S2. 
Bwoon, 82, 83, 128. 



tag-rag, 87. 
taste, 497. 



/ 



386 



Index. 



^V^ 



tempered, j6i. 

temple, 362. 

tenure, 598. 

ten'or, 190, 194. 

than, 56, S74- 

th and y, 674. 

that, IS, 44, 57, 147, 177, 

39S- 
thatch, 16. 
themselves, 36. 
then (than), 56. 
there's, 135. 
these, 57. 
these many, 485. 
thews, 124. 
thigh, 124. 
think, 147, 189. 
this, S7- 

this present, 57. 
this (time), 130. 
thorough, 338. 
thoroughly, 338. 
thou, I. 
through, 338. 
throughfare, 338. 
throughly, 338. 
thunderstone, 120. 
thyself, 56. 
tide, 362. 



tidmgs, 589. 


were, wert, best, 468. 


time, 362. 


when? 143. 


-tion, 246. 


wheT, 16, 194, 744. 7S7 


to, 1, S7> SSO, 633. 


which, 368, 376. 


toward, 53. 


while (the), 738. 


true man, 87. 


whiles, 67. 




whirl, 233. 




whit, 181. 


unaccustomed, 194. 


wight, 181. 


undergo, 130. 


will, I, 181, 238, 24S 


undeservers, 524. 


490. 


unmeritable, 493. 


wis, see ywis. 


upon, 588. 


wit, 435, 560. 




with, 124, 344, 362, 612. 




withhold, 398. 


vile, S74. 


worship, 503. 


viUam, 186. 


worth, 503. 


virtue, 209. 


wrote, 46. 


void, 277. 




vouchsafe, i. 






y-, 389- 




ye, 344- 


ware, 670. 


ye (the), 674. 


warn, 670. 


yearn, 258. 


wary, 670. 


yon, yond, yonder. 


was, 559. 


6S- 


wash, 332. 


you, 344. 


weep, 16. 


yourself, 56. 


well, 503. 


ywis, 389. 






/v^A/x^wioru 



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